


It's Better This Way...

by Iziscoolerthanyou



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Avengers Tower, Bucky is there when Steve wakes up, Domestic Avengers, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hydra (Marvel), M/M, SHIELD
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:08:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 30
Words: 30,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29846121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iziscoolerthanyou/pseuds/Iziscoolerthanyou
Summary: It had been maybe the most emotionally exhausting day of Steve’s life. Sure, for everyone else it had been seventy years, but for Steve, it had been like, a day. A really, really long fucking day!It started like all his days had for the last four months; bleak. He’d woken before the mission to the replay of the love of his life falling to his death. Again. Then he’d done his fucking job. Then he found himself piloting a fucking missile and Peggy was right, she probably could’ve found another way but honestly? He just wanted to be with Bucky again. So what’d he do? He crashed the plane into the arctic, supper serum keeping him conscious far longer than a normal person as he slowly drowned.Then he woke up in said love of his life's apartment. Seventy years had gone by, but really, what's a century for a couple of supper soldiers?(or, the one where Bucky is already there when Steve wakes up and fully deprogrammed and adjusted to modern life.)
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Jane Foster/Thor, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Steve Rogers & Avengers Team
Comments: 61
Kudos: 72





	1. Yesterday was 1945

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I had a rough version of this up and people were reading it but I wanted to re-write it better. I really like these types of fics and they are really hard to find for some reason, so I hope you all like it.
> 
> Also, I thought about tagging all the Works that have inspired and continue to inspire this one, but it would take too long.

There is one, single, inscrutable fact of the universe. That is that the universe is a spiteful bitch. She wants something, she gets it. End of discussion. And, well, apparently she wanted more from Steve because he was, decidedly, not dead. He had meant to be. Crashed the Valkyrie into the ice in 1945, thoughts only on the love he lost a few short months before… but that’s the funny thing in all of this. The universe had other ideas for his love as well.

Steve, obviously, didn’t know this when he went down. He might’ve listened to Peggy if he had. Might have found another way. Might have searched for the rest of his intended lifespan. But. Steve didn’t know. And he did crash that plane. And Steve slept, in the ice, for seventy years. 

Then, two weeks ago, he was fished out. Maybe in another universe, he’d have woken in some horrible, stilted way. Maybe he would have been alone. But not here. Here, Steve opened his eyes to a quiet room. White walls, sheer white drapes, a too soft bed with a small mountain of covers, and, a scent so intrinsically familiar to him he knew its source even before seeing it. 

“…Buck?” Steve knew it was probably only wishful thinking that manifested these familiar traces of Bucky everywhere he went. It happened more than he’d like to admit, and it made him equally hopeful each time. He knew nothing would come of the hoping. Bucky was dead. Nothing was going to change that. But then… come to think of it, wasn’t Steve? 

“I’m right here, Stevie.” Steve turned his head away from the window towards the sound of Bucky’s voice. Bucky smiled at him, a tired kind of smile that only really existed during the war. “Your a punk, ya know that?” He told Steve, like it was any other morning and yes, Steve was pretty sure he was, in fact, dead. Fine by him, so long as he got the job done and he was with Bucky again. 

So, Steve smiled back. He didn’t know what kind of smile he was putting forward. He didn’t think it was a matching one - he was too relived for that. “Jerk.” He retorted, on reflex and Bucky rolled his eyes. 

Steve pulled himself up, finding that the room was warm even without all the blankets. He slid his feet off the bed and landed them a few inches from Bucky’s. That’s when he noticed the socks. His were plain white, but Bucky’s were dark blue with red toes and heels and little tiny Captain America shields all over them. Steve blinked at the weird socks. Bucky wiggled his toes. Steve startled and pulled his gaze back up so he was eye-to-eye with his husband. 

Bucky stared at him with a smirk half hidden under a mop of dark hair that looked like it might have been tied up at some point, but had long since forgotten it was supposed to be and was now awkwardly shrouding his face. It’s then that Steve wondered, *wait, are we not dead?* Bucky cuts the thought off with a gentle flick to Steve’s forehead. “Ya with me, Stevie?” he checks. 

Steve blinked again. “Yeah, Buck, I’m with you.” Steve told him, though honestly, he wasn’t sure. “Um…” he adds, “where are we?”

Bucky eased, the tired smile returning. “DC. They wanted ya in New York but I wasn’t about to just let ‘em keep ya after seventy fuckin’ years…” he stated, only realizing the bomb he’d dropped after the words have already been said. Bucky winced. “…I meant to tell ya that better…” he mumbled, apologetically. 

Steve, for his part, was frozen to his seat. *Seventy years*? What the fuck was going on? He opened his mouth to ask, but no words formed. None of this made a lick of sense. Bucky was dead. By all accounts, Steve should’ve been too. So what the fuck? 

“Its 2012, Stevie.” Bucky cuts through his panicked confusion. “Ya crashed the plane - which we’re gonna talk about later, by the way - and got yourself frozen in ice. They found ya and pulled ya out two weeks ago, when the Valkyrie resurfaced…” he explained. 

Steve stared. For a while, that’s all he could do. But eventually, his brain caught up enough to notice the elephant in the room. “No.” He insisted, with a shake of his head. “You fell… I- I couldn’t catch you and you fell and you died.” 

Bucky’s expression darkened. He sighed, “not your fault, Stevie. But yeah, I fell…” he paused to pull off his hoodie, revealing a very metal left arm wired into a chest composed almost entirely of gnarled flesh and scar tissue. On the shoulder of the arm was a red star, small and angry looking. “Hydra.” Was the only explanation he gave to the, frankly, disturbing revelation. It was the only explanation Steve needed to finally start believing this was really happening. 

Hesitantly, Steve reached out. It was a mostly involuntary act, but he still found himself hesitating last-minute, his fingers hovering over the angry seam between metal and flesh. He looked back up to Bucky’s face in a silent request for permission. Bucky lifted his metal arm and pulled Steve’s hand the rest of the way to the juncture. It felt weird under Steve’s fingers. Rough where smooth skin once was, and cold where a flesh arm had been. But. It felt solid. Real.


	2. Keepsakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a blissful month, shit begins.

Steve was sitting by the window in the living room. It wasn’t a large apartment, by any means, but it easily dwarfed the one they’d shared back in Brooklyn. Bucky had, evidently, been living here a while because the place was full of homely elements. Warm blankets, fancy kitchen accessories, assorted magnates on the fridge with little post cards under each one, their old record player (how it was still functional after nearly a century, Steve had no idea), pieces of modern technology that Steve was honestly still too confused by to even get passed the security codes, etc… 

He was watching Bucky. Looking at the way his long hair fell over his face even when he tried to tie it up or tuck strands of it back. Studying the firm small curve of his mouth as he stared down at one of the smaller screens - what did Bucky call it again? A phone? There was something different to the look on his face. A weird kind of culmination of expressions that hadn’t previously gone together. And Steve was enthralled by it as a reader would be a good book. 

His fingers twitched. When was the last time he even tried to draw anything outside of maps of HYDRA bases and enemy lines? An image came to him of Peggy Carter standing over him in the rain as he glared at a sketch of a dancing, unicycle riding monkey. 

Had it really been that long? 

Steve forced his fingers to still. 

Bucky chose that moment to look up from his phone. He took Steve in, partly just because it was reassuring, Steve guessed, but also out of curiosity as well. He seemed to pick up on what was bothering Steve though, because he relaxed and looked back to his phone. “Bedroom dresser, second drawer to the left.” He instructed, mildly. 

With nothing better to do, Steve went to go check the dresser. It was an ugly thing. A sterile looking metal concoction that clashed so strongly against the warmth of everything else in the apartment that Steve was willing to place money on it not being Bucky’s choice. Actually, now that he thought about it, Steve was pretty sure he hadn’t seen Bucky open it in the month he’d been there. He pulled clothes from the closet or the hamper and since they’d shared clothes since well before the serum, Steve simply did the same (even if half the clothes Bucky owned were obnoxiously Captain America themed for some reason.) 

There were no handles on any of the drawers. Just a little black screen on each one. When Steve came within a foot of the dresser, the black screens came to life, suddenly glowing blue. “uh…” Steve said, brightly. 

“Thumb print, Stevie,” Bucky’s voice called from the living room.

Hesitantly, Steve reached out with his thumb, setting it over the screen and watching as the blue light consolidated into a single line that roved over the print of his thumb. Once it reached the bottom, a soft click punctuated its completion and the drawer popped open. “Thanks.” Steve called over his shoulder, smiling a little at the grunt he got in response. He pulled the drawer the rest of the way open, only to reveal his old sketchbook, some nice artist pencils, an old stack of letters, and a few other keepsakes from before and during the war. 

For a moment, Steve just stared. These were their keepsakes. Their love letters. Their dog-tags. Their photos. things Steve hadn’t really had any hope of ever seeing again, but here they all were. Tucked away, in what Steve was realizing was more a giant safe than an ugly dresser. For a split second, Steve eyed the other drawers, wondering what else could need this much safe keeping when they were already in one of the safest buildings on the planet. But. He brushed it aside for the time being. 

Steve carefully lifted his sketchbook and pencils from the drawer and tucked them under his arm before resealing the safe and strolling back into the living room. He plopped himself down on the couch beside Bucky, curling his toes under his husbands thigh and thumbing through the beat-up pages of his sketchbook. “How’d ya find all that stuff, Buck?” He wondered. 

Bucky huffed out an almost laugh. “Didn’t have ta. Jus’ had ta steal it back.” He said, like it was simple and easy and not leaving Steve with more questions than he’d started with. Steve was about to ask what Bucky meant by “steal it back”, when a strange sound erupted from the phone in Bucky’s hand. Steve tensed, but Bucky just put the device up to his ear. He said something to it in what sounded like it could have been Russian and Steve heard a female voice reply in kind. Bucky of them fell into a rapid conversation that Steve couldn’t follow. Then, after several minutes of lost listening, Bucky pulled the phone away and looked at Steve. “Sorry, Stevie, but I think that’s gonna have to wait a little longer.” He said, tapping the gadded paper in Steves hands with his metal fingers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are any breaks in tenses. I'm distracted 😂😂😂. don't @ me.


	3. Should have left it in the ocean

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This became a Bucky POV for some reason ???

In the month since Steve had woken up, Bucky had tried to get him as adjusted as he could without overwhelming him. He was a reserve agent, and as such, he’d had plenty of time to be by Steve’s side as he recovered. And as far as Bucky was concerned, that’s what Steve was still doing. He had been in the middle of a war a month ago. He had been in the trawls of grief, a month ago. He had been in the ice, a month ago. Nobody would be fine and dandy right after any of those things. 

So they stayed in most days, and when they did go out, Bucky kept them to quieter places. The park, the gym, walks down quiet streets, that sort of thing. And, for the most part, Fury respected that call and let them have their space. When he did come to introduce himself and explain to Steve what SHEILD was, he came alone and as a friend. Those were Bucky’s terms and he knew better than to argue with Bucky where Bucky’s family was concerned. 

But then Natalia called. She said Barton had been compromised. She said Coulson was rounding up the reserves and he knew. He knew their month of peace was at an end. “Sorry, Stevie, but I think that’s gonna have to wait a little longer.” He sighed, tapping at the notebook Steve had only just retrieved. 

Steve nodded dutifully and hoped off the couch. Bucky could see he was already gearing up for a fight. It was like he had a compass inside him but instead of leading him north, the damn thing lead him to “maximum punches” and Steve, the punk, smiled and took ‘em, every single time. 

It struck Bucky that he hadn’t even told Steve what had been said on the call with Nat. Or even, who Nat was. She’d been off on deep cover for longer than Steve had been awake and he’d just… he had wanted more time before he had to tell Steve the truth about HYDRA and what they’d made him do. But it wasn’t fair to Steve if he didn’t know what they were dealing with, and while he was sure someone would be at their door with a debrief on the actual mission any second, that still didn’t cover the part where a piece of Bucky’s family had been taken. 

“Steve-“ he started, but was cut off by the clicking of their front door’s lock being overridden and Fury’s typical dramatics. 

“Director.” Steve greeted, a little coldly. They were both pretty private people, but Steve especially, did not like people intruding on his space without an invitation. Bucky had kind of lost all his hang ups on the matter back in HYDRA, but, alas. 

“Captain,” Fury tipped his head at Steve, expression and voice as ambiguously urgent as ever. He turned to Bucky and repeated the gesture, “Sargent.” 

“Ya here with a mission?” Bucky asked, gruffly.

Fury gave him a flat look. “I have a feeling you already know the answer.” He handed a file to Steve, rolling his eye and muttering something about spies being gossips. 

Steve held the file open between them so Bucky could see as well. He immediately wished he hadn’t looked. “Hydra’s secret weapon,” Steve muttered as they stared down at a photo of the tesseract. Steve leaned into Bucky’s flesh shoulder for reassurance, and Bucky reflexively wrapped his arm around Steve and squeezed. 

“Howard Stark fished it out of the ocean while he was looking for Cap here,” Fury nodded towards Steve again “he thought what we think, that-“ 

“Shoulda guessed it’d be Stark’s fuckin’- do you have any idea how fuckin’ dangerous that thing is?” Bucky snapped. He was livid. So was Steve. But that thing had torn them apart once already, nearly killing them both. Bucky wasn’t ready for that to happen again. Not ever. 

“So who took it?” Steve wondered. He, mercifully, closed the folder over the image of that cursed cube, and handed it back to Fury. Bucky relaxed his grip on Steve slightly once the thing was out of sight. This was gonna be a shit week.

“He’s called Loki, he’s... not from around here. There’s a lot we’ll have to bring you up to speed on, if you’re in?” Fury explained, irritatingly calm for someone who’d just fucked the world over on accident. Then, almost like a challenge, he turned to Steve and he said, “the world has gotten even stranger than you already know.” 

Steve eyed Bucky. “At this point,” Steve began, “I doubt anything would surprise me.” 

Fury raised his brow “ten bucks says you’re wrong.” He said it like a fact rather than a question. “Here’s the debriefing packet.” He told them, handing over a second, much larger folder and a thumb drive. “Is there anything you can tell us about the tesseract that we ought to know now?” 

“You should’ve left it in the ocean.” Steve hissed. Fury took that as a cue to leave.

For a moment, they were both silent. Both standing completely still where they stood. Then, slowly, Bucky pulled away so he could face Steve more fully. “Before…” he stopped. Took a deep breath. Started again, “before we read those, I need to fill you in on what happened to me…”


	4. But first...

Steve lamented the loss of Bucky’s hold as soon as it was gone. He knew they couldn’t stay glued together like that forever. There was a mission and even if there wasn’t, standing in the middle of the room and staring at nothing was hardly a good use of his day. Even if his days had been… quiet since waking up. 

But Bucky was staring at him, suddenly more apprehensive than Steve had seen in months. “Before…” he stopped. Took a deep breath. Started again, “before we read those, I need to fill you in on what happened to me…” 

Steve reached out, gripping Bucky’s flesh shoulder with a firm hand. “Okay, Buck,” he wanted to tell him he didn’t have to. That if it was too hard to talk about it might not be a good time to have this conversation. But Bucky had been about to say something before Fury walked in. Steve had a feeling it had something to do with that phone call, and thus, the mission. So he said okay and he patiently waited for Bucky to gather his thoughts. 

“After I fell, HYDRA found me. They… Stevie, they scrambled my brain until there was nothin’ left and then they turned me into a weapon.” Steve glanced at Bucky’s metal arm, but Bucky shook his head. “No, not… not just that. They turned me into a monster, Stevie. They’d send me out on missions, and then they’d wipe my memory and put me in a freezer until I was useful again. I didn’t- Steve, I didn’t even know I was a person. So, when they started usin’ me ta train kids-“ he broke off abruptly, swallowing down the emotions his memories were bringing up. He closed his eyes before continuing, “they started wakin’ me up too frequently so I could teach little girls how to kill each other.” 

Steve felt a little sick. And also, maybe a little murder-vengancy too. How could they do that to his Bucky? How could he let this happen? If only he’d been faster…

“They sent me out on a field mission with one of the girls, Natalia, who’d graduated the program. I’d trained her intermittently since she was knee-high, but I didn’t remember… she ran and she took me with her. To this day, I don’t know why I went, but the longer I stayed with her, the more I started to remember…” Bucky explained. “Then, a few years later, she messed up and got herself on SHEILD’s radar. We were in Budapest when the agent sent to kill her caught up with us, only, he made a different call.” 

Steve put the pieces together easily enough from there. “Loki took him.” He deducted. 

Bucky nodded. 

“Okay,” Steve said, as soothingly as he could. There was more, he was sure, but Bucky had given him everything he could for now. Steve could take the information and save the rest for later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this one is so short. I really am trying to write longer chapters, I promise!!!


	5. Awkward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coulson is a fanboy, Bucky loves Steve’s ass, and Steve wishes he wasn’t here.

“We’re about forty minutes from home base sir,” one of the two pilots flying the jet called to an agent behind him. The agent rose from his seat and started walking over to Steve. 

Bucky had gone off to check something in the back, leaving Steve at the mercy of one of the most awkward conversations he’d ever had.

Steve was looking through the digital files Bucky had showed him how to use, reading up on one, Dr. Bruce Banner. The footage accompanying the files was... disturbing. “So, this Doctor Banner was trying to replicate the serum they used on me?” Steve asked the agent. 

The agent smiled awkwardly. “A lot of people were.” He explained. “You were the worlds first superhero. Banner thought Gamma radiation might hold the key to unlocking Erskine’s original formula.” 

Steve frowned back down at the clip of the Hulk taring up Harlem. “Didn’t really go his way, did it?” 

The agent kind of shrugged. “Not so much. When he’s not that thing though, guys like a Stephan Hawking.” 

Steve blinked. Who was Steven Hawking? 

“He’s like a- smart person. I gotta say- it’s an honor to meet you, officially.” the guy gushed, sounding like an awkward school boy for all that he was at least forty. 

Steve forced a smile. He had always hated people getting like this with him. He was just a guy who wanted to fight for his country. People seemed to think of him as this kind of saint-like hero after Azzano. Bucky said it had only gotten worse since then, and based on what little he’d experienced so far... he could believe it. 

“I sort of met you, I mean, I watched you while you were sleeping,” the agent continued, even giddier now than he was at the start of this god-awful conversation (if you could even call it that). Steve to suppress a shiver. He needed to move, shake it off... Steve shut the laptop he’d been working on and stood up to go find Bucky. The agent just followed him. “I mean, I was... I was present while... you were unconscious, from the ice. You... know, it's really, it's just a... just... a huge honor to have you on board.” 

Steve had reached Bucky now, thank god! He clapped him on the shoulder, startling him out of his amo check. Bucky looked up at the pair and shook his head exhaustedly “Coulson, I told ya not to nag ‘im! You’re creepin’ ‘im out!” He scolded. Steve gave him a grateful smile. Bucky sighed “he’s just excited ‘cause he gotta help upgrade the suits.” 

Steve looked over at Phil in surprise. “The suits? Woulda thought that was a little... old fashioned..?” Steve never liked the suit. 

Bucky gave him a very affronted look “like I’d ever let ya fight in anythin’ else,” he scoffed. Steve should’ve expected that. Bucky might’ve hated the stupid captain America image, but fuck if he didn’t love seeing Steve in patriotic spandex. Steve knew this. 

“Buck...” Steve chided, not really sure how he felt about the direction this conversation was going. It wasn’t that Steve wanted to hide their relationship. He knew it wasn’t exactly a crime anymore... Steve was just concerned by the way Coulson was watching the two of them. It. Was. Weird. 

Bucky smirked at Coulson, ignoring Steve’s complaints. “Should see his ass when he fights in that thing,” he teased, throwing an obnoxious wink Steve’s way. “All tight and-“

“Buck!” Steve snapped, feeling his face heat up. It was an unpleasant feeling, especially when mixed with the discomfort Coulson was already giving him. 

Bucky laughed. 

Steve really wished he had died in the crash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I adore this scene. It never gets old, oh my pineapples🍍🍍🍍. Perfect in every way but I had to get bucky in there too so I just thought, eh, why not make it even worse for Steve?


	6. Woah.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helicariers are narly and really hard to spell, wooo

There was a redheaded woman waiting by the jet when they stepped off. She had a smile that stopped at the eyes but somehow, didn’t look at all forced. Bucky embraced her, holding tightly with his flesh arm and using the grip he had on his duffle as a cover for not using his concealed metal one as well. If Steve had to guess, this was Natalia. 

The hug didn’t last long, and when it was over Bucky stepped back to Steve’s side and the woman looked between them, and then at Coulson, who was still standing too close, bouncing on the balls of his feat with excitement. She smirked. 

“Agent Romanoff,” Coulson greeted with a nod, suddenly all business. 

“They need you on the bridge. They’re starting the face trace.” Agent Romanoff told Coulson. Steve would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little relived when the guy left. “When I heard he was going to be your chauffeur, I nearly busted out the popcorn,” the woman teased. “Did he ask him to sign the cards yet?”

“Trading cards?” Steve wondered, aloud. 

“They’re vintage. He’s very proud.” She deadpanned.

Bucky snorted. He leaned into Steve’s ear. “I’m gonna go get our stuff. See you inside,” he murmured, before slipping away like a shadow. Steve had never seen Bucky move like that. He’d never seen anyone move like that. He was no stranger to efficiency or stealth when moving, but that… it was something else entirely. Steve looked around, finding comfort in the familiarity of the military buzz surrounding them. This, at least, was more or less the same. Maybe the planes were different, more modern, and the tech too, but it was all pretty much how he’d left it seventy years ago. He could understand this. 

He saw a nervous looking man a few yards away, caught in a line of running soldiers. “Doctor Banner,” he called, mostly to try and get him out of the fray. 

Bruce came towards them with an uncomfortable, definitely forced smile. He wrung his hands slightly, shuffling more than walking over. Steve couldn’t really blame him. This clearly wasn’t his element, and based on what Steve had read on him earlier… “Oh, yeah. Hi. They told me you’d be coming...” Banner sort of forced himself to say. 

Steve reached a hand out to shake “word is you can find the cube?” He offered. 

Bruce eyed him anxiously “oh yeah? Is that the... only word on me?” It was almost like a challenge. He was daring Steve, betting on him answering wrong. 

Steve never did like doing what people told him. Also, Banner seemed like a nice guy. “The only word I care about.” Steve affirmed, and just like that, Banner relaxed into the conversation like they were two old friends talking. 

“Must be strange for you, all of this,” Bruce said after a moment of comfortable silence. He gestured around at the new planes and the high-tech stuff, but all Steve saw was the familiarity of a base. 

“Well, this is actually kind of familiar,” he admitted, with a shrug and half a smile. The world was always a little bit foreign to Steve, if he was honest. His one connection to it ha always been Bucky and so long as he had that, he knew he’d be fine. 

Romanoff cut in from a foot or two behind them. “Gentlemen, you might wanna step inside in a minute. It’s gonna get a little hard to breathe.” Her tone was cool, but maybe a little proud, as well. Steve hadn’t even realized she was still there. 

Just then, someone called out over an intercom “flight mode, secure the deck!” 

Steve almost whistled as he moved toward the edge. “Is this a submarine?” He asked, listening to the whirring sound of engines kicking into gear somewhere nearby. This thing was fucking huge! The idea that it could be submerged, planes, tower and all… well, it was kind of amazing. 

“Really, they want me in a submerged pressurized metal container?” Banner half laughed. He did not look impressed. Steve looked down over the edge of the flight deck just in time to see a massive propeller burst from the depths. The whirring sound turned into a loud, repetitive, swoosh and banner had to yell to be heard over it. “Oh no,” He called with a twisted grin “this is much worse!” 

Agent Romanoff let them gawk for another minute or two, then headed them inside. 

They were on the elevator, headed for the bridge when banner spotted something on the floor in the corner. His lips quirked up in an almost smile as he reached for it. He passed it to Steve, distinctly not making eye contact as he did. 

Steve looked at the paper thing between his fingers to see a little sticker of his shield. Agent Romanoff snorted. “I bet Coulson’s got a whole book of those stashed in his locker.” Steve frowned at the sticker, but pocketed it anyway. He had an idea for where it could go, but for the moment, he needed to focus. 

The elevator doors opened and Agent Romanoff lead the two of them down a small hallway. At its end, were a thin set of doors. She didn’t even slow as she approached them, trusting the guard posted there to open them for her like she was some kind of queen. It reminded Steve a little of Peggy, actually. 

They stepped out onto a platform on a truly massive bridge. Transparent screens were everywhere, each displaying details on either the hellicarier they were on, or the cube, and nearly all of them were attended to by a shield agent. 

Agent Romanoff entered the room with purpose, heading straight for Fury, while Steve and Bruce were left to float, awestruck, through the room.

“We’re at level, Sir.” One of the agents told the director. 

“Good,” Fury answered, “lets vanish.” Steve wondered what he meant by that, but of all the questions to ask, that hardly seemed the most important. Fury turned back towards the two of them. “Gentleman,” he greeted, taking a few steps towards Steve. Steve pulled his wallet out of his pocket and slipped the director a ten.

He spotted Bucky entering from another part of the bridge and immediately abandoned Fury for his husband. Bucky was squinting at him when he came over. “He win the bet?” He asked with a nod toward Fury, sounding slightly amused. 

“Yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> did I make it longer?


	7. That’s... a lot of knives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve gets a new suit and also, Bucky is hot as the winter soldier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was stupidly fun to write. Enjoy!

Bucky lead Steve through the ship’s twisting passageways. They were surprisingly dark and narrow for a ship as big and tech-y as this. Steve didn’t like it. It made his skin crawl.

He was just about to ask where Bucky was leading him, when they turned the corner and came upon a section of hallway that was slightly wider and marginally brighter, and, littered with doorways. Bucky walked a third of the way down the hall and stopped infant of a nondescript room. He tapped a code into a little key-pad by the knob, which Steve quickly memorized, and pushed the door open. 

Inside, was a small, sterile looking room. There was nothing to mark it as theirs in any way, aside from the two heavy-duty cases, and the duffle Bucky had brought from home, lined up on the cot. “Big case is yours. Should have everything ya need. Suit up.” Bucky directed, pointing towards the larger of the two cases. 

Steve unlocked the case the same way he’d opened the “dresser” back at the apartment. The thing clicked open on its own, lid folding up and revealing, as Bucky had said, everything Steve would need. His shield was displayed neatly in the base half of the case, but the lid carried a shiny new spangly suit. It was vivid, like his costume on the war bonds tour had been, but more heavily armored than even the one he’d worn into battle later on. As he unfolded it, he found that it had all the bells and whistles the SHIELD uniforms had, only, it was obnoxiously patriotic where those were decidedly not. He glanced back at the case and found that there was a small handgun tucked into a fitted pocket under where the suit had been. It looked innocuous enough, which Steve appreciated. He only used firearms as a last resort when his murder frisbee wasn’t working. 

Bucky nudged him. “Stop starin’ at it, Rogers,” he huffed. Steve looked over at him, intent on retorting somehow, but found himself slightly distracted by the layout Bucky had made of his own gear. And weapons. Just… so many weapons. A disturbing amount really. Actually, Steve decided he’d rather put his American flag on than think about why on earth Bucky needed that many fucking knives. So, he did as Bucky had suggested.

It took Steve a while to familiarize himself with the new suit. He felt like he needed to know were each break in armor was, every hidden pocket, whatever there was, he needed to learn about. Which, was probably fine, since Bucky was still in the bathroom, fussing with something on his face that Steve couldn’t really see from this angle. When he finally did feel like he knew what was on him, Steve hooked his shield onto his back and sat on the side of the bed farthest from Bucky’s array of sharp shoot-y things. 

He took the few minutes of wait time to fold his clothes up and set them aside, making sure to grab the sticker from his jacket pocket. He was just setting the jacket down when Bucky’s booted feet appeared on the floor in front of him. Steve raked his eyes up Bucky’s black-leather-clad form, slowly taking in every inch of oh-holy-fuck. It was like a feast for his eyes. Steve might have been drooling a little, actually. And then. Then Steve reached Bucky’s face and Jesus-christ that eyeliner… 

“Buck,” he drooled, intelligently. 

Bucky smirked. “Watcha got there, stevie?” He asked, sweet in a way that outfit really didn’t fit with. 

For a moment, Steve had no idea what Bucky was talking about, but then he blinked down at his hands and remembered. He felt a stupid smile taking over his face as he pealed back the backing to the sticker and reached up. He smoothed the paper Captain America shield over the angry red star on Bucky’s shoulder. “Better.” He said, with a decisive nod. 

Bucky huffed in fake-annoyance that promised Steve he had done a good thing and left funny little dreams of metal-compliant paints in his mind. “Punk,” Bucky muttered, fondly, as he began holstering every single one of the weapons he’d set out, onto his person. Afar as Steve knew, Bucky was a sniper. Why the fuck were there so many knives?

“Jerk.” Steve countered, automatically. 

Even more disconcerting than the sheer amount of weapons laid out, was the sheer speed in which each one was holstered and concealed. Especially considering Bucky was the kind of person who could take an hour and a half to get dressed. Steve wasn’t really sure if he was shocked, or disturbed, or turned on by it, but he also didn’t have time to figure it out because Bucky was finished too quickly. 

“Ya like the show, Stevie?” Bucky teased, suddenly ready to go. He reached for Steve’s hand and started tugging him out of the room and back the way they had come. 

“I dunno,” Steve retorted, on principal. “It felt pretty rushed.”

Bucky grinned at him. A truly blinding thing in their teens, but a slightly off-putting look now. Not that it was off-putting to Steve. Steve was pretty sure Bucky could do any number of terrifying, disturbing, or otherwise unspeakable things and he’d still love him. Actually, Steve was pretty sure Bucky already had, but that was sort of beside the point.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It'sabout to get really actiony, so be ready for that.


	8. The last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everybody else...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reindeer games is an insult to reindeer.

“Kneel before me,” They could hear Loki yelling from the live-feed as the jet neared his location. Romanoff grunted something that might have been a curse. Steve wasn’t paying close enough attention to catch it, he was too focused on Loki. “I said- KNEEL!” This time Loki screamed it. A decisive clank of metal against concrete and a flash of blue light bright enough to be seen from the open Quinjet doors followed. 

Steve glanced over at Bucky. He was checking his weapons one last time before the drop. Steve was pretty sure he’d already completed the check several times over and was just occupying himself at this point, but also, he could respect that so he pretended he hadn’t noticed.

“Is not this simpler? Is this not your natural state?” Loki was asking the civilian hostages now. Bucky scrunched his nose in disgust, but said nothing still. “It’s the unspoken truth of humanity, that you crave subjugation.” 

“We’re over the drop site. Captain, Winter, you’re up!” Romanoff called from the pilots seat. 

Loki continued rattling on, but Steve wasn’t listening anymore. He was moving. Running towards the edge of the ramp. Bucky seemed to notice what Steve was doing a second too late, snapping “Steve-“ but he’d already jumped. No parachute. No problem... probably.

There was a single figure standing defiantly in the crowed. An old man, who Steve could hear through the com-feed. “Not to men like you.” 

Loki was looking at the man now, though Steve was too far to see his expression. “There are no men like me.” He said it like it was an object fact. Funny, how ego works. Schmitt had thought the same thing. 

Steve’s feet landed on the roof of a nearby building, and he immediately began running. He could guess where this exchange was going and he just hoped he wasn’t too late.

“There are always men like you.” The old man was saying, and Loki was raising his scepter. Steve pushed himself to run faster. 

“Look to your elder, people. Let him be an example.” Loki was saying. 

Steve was at the edge of the roof now. He leapt from the edge, angling so he’d land in-front of the old man. 

The scepter was glowing blue.

Steve reached for his shield, mid air.

The scepter fired.

Steve landed in a crouch in front of the old man. The familiar sound of a tesseract-powered-shot hit his shield, and Steve rose just in time to see Loki go tumbling back from the ricochet. “Ya know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standin’ above everybody else, we ended up disagreeing.” He drawled, stepping closer to the psychopath. 

Steve could hear the people behind him fleeing. Good. 

“The soldier,” Loki half laughed as he used the staff to pull himself up from the ground. It was, unsurprising, a not-right kind of laugh. “The man out of time,” he looked like he had more to say, but Steve didn’t give him the chance. 

“I’m not the one who’s out of time.” Steve told him, probably too smug for his own good, but he could hear the Quinjet coming in overhead, and it’s massive guns being directed at Mr. Antlers.

“Loki,” Romanoff’s voice echoed through the pavilion over the jet’s speakers. “Drop the weapon and stand down.” 

Loki looked mildly annoyed as he aimed his scepter up toward the Quinjet and fired off an explosive shot. Steve watched as Natasha expertly maneuvered out of the way and out of the line of fire. In fact, he was so caught up in it, that he almost didn’t see the bullet from his far left, knocking Loki back. It didn’t take him down, but it did give Steve the chance to whack him in the head with his shield. Loki didn’t seem to like that much though, because the next thing Steve knew, he had him hooked at the nape of his neck and was forcing him down. “Kneel!” Loki demanded. 

He shouldn’t done that. Steve used the scepter as leverage to swing himself up and around, kicking Loki in the neck. Brutal. “Not today!” He grunted as he finished out the twist. 

“Ya ever get tired ‘a fight’n’, ya could be a gymnast,” Bucky breathed through the comms. Steve snorted, shaking his head as he straightened up. Suddenly Loki - who was in front of him, on the ground - knocked him with a blast from behind and Steve went flying. Steve heard Bucky open fire, berating Loki with shrapnel-dispensing bullets. He might as well have been tossing carrots though, because as far as Steve could tell, they weren’t even breaking skin. 

That’s about when the really loud, really strange, music started blasting from the Quinjet speakers. “Agent Romanoff, you miss me?” A voice that sounded so fucking similar to Howard’s, Steve recognized it immediately as his son, even before seeing the gaudy red suit dart through the night sky and land beside him, all weapons at the ready. Steve moved so they could more effectively block Loki in, shield raised. “Make a move reindeer games,” Stark threatened. 

“Doin’ reindeer a real disservice, callin’ him that” Bucky muttered through the comms. Stark snorted. 

Loki raised his hands above his head and dissolved his antlers like they’d never existed at all. Steve would be shocked, but he was too tired, and he had a feeling that this was just the beginning. Yay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooh, wow, a whole three pages! Progress.


	9. Afraid of a little lightning?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bam Bam Thunder Man

Something was very wrong. Loki had been too easy to take in and they all knew it. Steve was standing near the front, watching the skies grow stormiest as they flew them back to base. Tony stood beside him, but his eyes were trained on the back of the plane where Bucky was staring daggers into Loki’s skull. 

“I don’t like it,” Steve muttered, glancing back. Bucky was unnaturally still. He sat like a statue, and it was far scarier to Steve than the alien he was guarding. He’d never seen his husband so still. 

“What, rock of ages giving up so easily?” Tony retorted, but his tone and his expression lent to agreement. He was just an asshole. Good to know that now, before shot got real.

Steve turned back toward the cockpit, but his gaze lingered on Tony. He looked so much like his dad. It was jarring. “I don’t remember it being that easy,” Steve admitted, quietly. “This guy packs a wallop.” 

Tony craned his neck, as if bothered by the use of the term “wallop”. “Mm, still, your pretty spry... for an older fellow,” he taunted. Steve noted the subtle change in his tone as he switched from solemn, to spiteful, and how naturally it came to Tony. He filed it away under his “Stark is an asshole” box. “What’s your thing, Pilates?” 

Okay so he was really committing to this one. Lovely. 

“You wish you could see him doin’ Pilates!” Bucky cut in, startling them both. “Mm!” He grinned, “whatta sight!” 

Steve rolled his eyes. 

Thunder struck from somewhere nearby, and Steve immediately sharpened his gaze on Bucky. He was not about to loose him to another fall! Not when he’d just gotten him back... but it wasn’t Bucky that looked shaken; their - until this point, disconcertingly relaxed - prisoner, was practically shaking in his boots. “What’s the matter?” Steve taunted “afraid of a little lightning?” 

Loki swallowed thickly. “I’m not overly fond of what follows.” 

Suddenly, a loud thud came from the top of the jet - the sound of something landing on them. The next six seconds went by so fast it was hard to keep up. The ramp opened (maybe by Tony?) and the Thor guy they’d read about in debrief appeared in the entryway. 

Tony tried to blast him, but he was too fast. Tossed him aside like a rag doll. 

Then Thor grabbed Loki by the scruff of the neck and Bucky tried to hold them back, but nearly got pulled out with them instead. 

Then tony went after them (“wait, Stark, we need a plan of attack!”) (“I have a plan, attack!”). Idiot!

Bucky stared down at the mountains below them, breath hitching as he clung to the inside of the plane, bending it under the crush of his metal hand. His breathing was too fast and he was starting to shake with panic. 

Steve reached for a parachute and started to strap in, eyeing him the whole time. 

“I’d sit this one out, Steve.” Romanoff warned from the front seat. 

“I don’t see how I can,” Steve told her honestly “but Bucky definitely should.” He added, noticing how his husband’s metal hand was shaking. That meant he was trembling down to his very core... Steve hated to leave him when he was like this, but like he said...

She gave him a warning look “these guys come from legend, they’re basically gods!” She pushed, flipping some controls above her head, but keeping her eyes on Steve. 

Steve pulled Bucky back from the exit, sat him down, then turned to go. “There’s only one god ma’am,” he grunted “and I’m pretty sure he doesn’t dress like that.” 

Then he jumped. 

By the time he landed, Tony and Thor had already taken out several trees and shaved all the loose rock off the nearest mountain face... 

“Hey!” he threw his shield between them like a boomerang, whacking them both to drawing their attention. “That’s enough!” He scolded from his perch on one of their many fallen trees. Was this how Bucky felt trying to get him to stop going after guys twice his size back in Brooklyn? Ohhhh... Steve jumped down to their level “now I don’t know what you plan on doin’ here-“ 

“I’ve come here to put an end to Loki’s schemes!” Thor ground out, not letting him finish. 

“Then prove it,” Steve challenged. “Put that hammer down.”

“Uh, yeah, no!” Tony cut in, clearly nervous “bad call, he loves his hammer-“ Thor whacked him back, and Tony crashed into another tree. Or three. 

“You want me to put the hammer down?!” Thor yelled, looking suddenly unhinged. He ran two steps, jumped higher than even Steve could’ve, and struck his hammer down on Steve’s raised shield. The impact from the two evenly matched tools, blew them both back in opposite directions.

When Steve stood up again, he saw that the blast had taken out every tree in the area. 

“Are we done here?” Steve asked, rhetorically.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. Yeah. Angst comin up, hope y’all are ready lol


	10. That ain’t English.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That man is playing galaga!

“He really grows on you, doesn’t he?” Bruce mumbled as they all gathered around the conference table on the bridge to listen to Fury and Loki talk. Steve and Bucky slid into seats beside him, across from Thor. 

“Loki’s gonna drag this out. So, Thor, what’s his play?” Steve figured asking Thor was probably their best bet of preventing anymore death. 

Thor laid his hands out ahead of him on the table, face grim. “He has an army called the Chitauri. They’re not of Asgard nor any world known. He means to lead them against your people. They will win him the Earth, in return, I suspect, for the Tesseract.” He explained. 

Steve felt the unease he’d been feeling ever since they first got Loki in Stuttgart, worsen. “An army, from outer space?” He tried, though his mouth had gone so dry that it sounded scratchy even to his own ears. 

“Just couldn’t leave that fuckin’ thing in the ocean, could ‘e?” Bucky muttered from beside him. He still looked slightly shaken from his panic on the jet, but as the minutes had passed, he’d began to snark again. Steve figured Romanoff had said something to him while the rest of them were playing “destroy the forest”.

“So, he’s building another portal. That’s what he needs Erik Selvig for.” Bruce murmured, mostly to himself. He was wringing his hands again, and not looking at anything in particular.

Thor went pale. “Selvig?” He wondered, horrified. 

“He’s an astrophysicist.” Bruce said, not really looking up enough to correctly read Thor’s question. 

Thor looked down. “He’s a friend.” He corrected. 

“Loki has him under some kind of spell- along with one of ours.” Romanoff explained from the other side of the table, fingers dusting over her arrow necklace absently. Bucky looked at her, but she didn’t meet his gaze so he went back to staring down at the table. Steve squeezed his thigh and Bucky leaned into his shoulder in response. 

“I wanna know why Loki let us take him. He’s not leading an army from here.” Steve announced, because they’d been skating around that - blazingly - obvious question for hours now. 

Bruce leaned back a little as he said, “I don’t think we should be focusing on Loki. That guy’s brain is a bag full of cats, you can smell crazy on him.” There was the arrest hint of a smile on his face. Not amused, so much as slightly proud of himself for making a joke. 

Bucky snickered. 

“Have care how you speak,” Thor bellowed, clearly offended by the comment. “Loki is beyond reason but he is of Asgard, and he is my brother!” 

Natasha leveled him with a dull stare, retorting with a flat, “He killed eighty people in two days.” 

Thor looked down like a shamed puppy “… he’s adopted?” He tried, pitifully. Bucky huffed, crossing his arms and giving Thor the same look he always gave Steve when he did something reckless and stupid. Steve scrunched his nose up and nudged Bucky. Bucky rolled his eyes, but, he stopped giving Thor the “you’re a punk, Steve” glare. 

Bruce brushed it off, and continued, “I think it’s about the mechanics. Iridium, what do they need the Iridium for?” He wondered. At first, Steve wasn’t sure who he was asking, because, was that even a word? But then he noticed Stark and Coulson had just come in behind him.

“It’s a stabilizing agent.” Tony answered nonchalantly. He leaned closer to Coulson, murmuring “I’m saying, take a weekend. I’ll fly you to Portland. Keep love alive!” He urged. Coulson smiled doubtfully as he peeled away from him. Tony shrugged and jumped back into his explanation. “Means the portal won’t collapse on itself like it did at SHIELD.” He turned to Thor, face shifting from smug to full-on dick as he added “No hard feelings point break, you got a mean swing.”

Thor gave Tony’s back a look as he walked to the control panels. “Also, means the portal can open as wide and stay open as long as Loki wants,” he added, before redirecting his attention to the SHIELD personnel. “Ah, raise the mizzen mast, ship the topsails.” The personnel just looked at him strangely. Okay so nobody knew what Tony was saying half the time? “That man is playing Galaga! Thought we wouldn’t notice, but we did!” Tony declared. 

Steve had no idea what Galaga was, but apparently Bucky did. “Mind if I join ya?” Bucky asked the agent, already standing over his shoulder. When did he even get up? The fuck? The guy scooted over, letting Bucky join him. 

Tony was now standing at the command area of the ship. He covered one eye, turned to Maria Hill (who Steve had met when he’d woken up) “How does Fury even see these?” He seemed to have a new thought every twelve seconds and Steve kind of hated ALL of them. 

Hill looked at him with the same expression Romanoff had had for Thor a minute earlier. “He turns.” She deadpanned. Steve liked Hill.

Tony looked affronted “Sounds exhausting,” He complained, but hill just shrugged, and eyed him as he started playing with the control panels. Somehow though, Steve was pretty sure she didn’t catch him sticking a little thing to the underside of one of the panels. “The rest of the raw materials, Agent Barton can get his hands on pretty easily. Only major component he still needs is a power source- of high energy density. Something to- kick start the Cube.” 

Agent Barton? Was that the name of the guy Bucky said brought him and Romanoff to SHIELD?

Hill raised her brows at Tony. “When did you become an expert in thermonuclear astrophysics?” She questioned, mildly. 

Tony shrugged. “Last night.” He revealed. Steve was so lost… thermo- What? “The packet,” Tony continued. “Selvig’s notes, the extraction theory papers- am I the only one who did the reading?” He snarled. 

Suddenly something clicked. “Does Loki need any particular kind of power source?” Steve cut in. 

Bruce nodded “He’d have to heat the Cube to a hundred and twenty million kelvin just to break through the Coulomb barrier.” He said, like it was obvious. Steve glanced over at Bucky - wondering if he had a clue what any of those words were either. 

Bucky moved aside, letting the agent go back to his game, and moving back to Steve’s side. “Translate,” Bucky commanded. 

Bruce and Tony both let out long, suffering sighs. “It’s gotta be really hot.” Romanoff explained. Steve and Bucky both nodded. Why couldn’t they ever just say that? Fucking gibberish future speech…

“Unless, Selvig has figured out how to stabilize the Quantum Tunneling effect…” Tony said, turning to Bruce. Okay! That was definitely NOT a thing! Steve was so lost…

“Well, if he could do that he could achieve heavy-ion fusion at any reactor on the planet.” Bruce agreed. 

Steve looked at Bucky incredulously. Bucky just shrugged. 

Tony looked at Bruce in triumph. “Finally! Someone who speaks English!” He exclaimed, excitement taking over as he abandoned the control panels and moved to shake Bruce’s hand.

“Is that what just happened?” Steve muttered, so sick of being lost. 

Bruce took Tony’s offered hand and shook. 

“That ain’t English,” Bucky retorted. In Gaelic. 

“No shit.” Steve agreed, still using the native language his mother had brought with her when she immigrated. She’d taught Bucky when he started hanging around all the time. Steve had always suspected it was more for her benefit than either of theirs, though. They hadn’t used it much after she died, but it popped back in for visits, usually in moments like this.

Tony was gushing over Bruce now. “It’s good to meet you, Doctor Banner. Your work on anti-electronic collisions is unparalleled. And, I’m a huge fan of the way you- lose control and turn into an enormous green rage monster!” But by now, Steve and Bucky were holding their own little conversation and not really paying attention. 

“…Thanks.” Bruce mumbled awkwardly. 

“Doctor Banner is only here to track the Cube. I was hoping you might join him.” Fury cut in, having manifested to their right. It effectively severed all side-conversations pretty much instantly.

“I’d start with that stick of his,” Steve said to the group, switching back to English. “It may be magical but-“ 

“It works an awful lot like a HYDRA weapon.” Bucky finished his thought with a definitive nod. There was really no mistaking it.

“I don’t know about that, but it is powered by the Cube. And I’d like to know how Loki used it to turn two of the sharpest men I know into his personal flying monkeys!” Fury declared, bitterly. 

Thor looked at him in utter confusion. “Monkeys? I do not understand-“ he started, but Steve didn’t let him finish. 

“I do!” He half screamed. Everyone went quiet and stared at him. “I…I understood that reference…” he added quietly. He could feel the heat rise on his cheeks as he looked back down at the table. Bucky crackled beside him, keeling over so he was mostly supported by Steve as he laughed mercilessly. Steve went even redder. 

Tony looked back at Bruce, ignoring the scene the two super soldiers were making. “Shall we play, Doctor?” He offered, and fuck was Steve grateful the attention was off of him. 

“This way, sir,” Bruce agreed, and the two men headed for the lab.

Bucky leaned in, choking back another round of laughter so he could whisper “how far down ‘s that blush goin’, punk?” And Steve was pretty sure he died. Oh well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said angst was coming and then this was like, not angsty, but I promise it is. and also, I promise I have a reason for still calling nat by her last name. sorry if its weird tho


	11. Everything is so confusing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I promised angst

They were wandering. There was no other way to put it. After the science bro’s had gone off to the lab and Thor had wandered off to talk to Coulson, Romanoff had started towards the door and Bucky had dragged Steve along as he’d chased after her. They caught up in the stairwell. Bucky rattled something off at her in Russian that made her stop. Turn. Stare. “Fine.” She agreed, irritated. 

Then they started walking again. All three of them. Silently.

Eventually, Romanoff caved and broke the silence. “I’m Natasha,” she reached an arm out infant of Bucky to offer a skinny hand for Steve to shake. “I don’t think we did names earlier, so.” She sounded like this was being forced on her somehow. Judging by the way Bucky was staring at them, Steve wouldn’t dismiss that as a possibility. 

“Steve Rogers.” He took her hand, unsurprised by the firmness of her grip. As far as awkward, stilted introductions went, this was not the worst one he’d had today. 

Natasha nodded. Then she turned a corner so suddenly, Steve almost didn’t see where she went at all. “I’d love to stay and chat, but…” she was already opening a small service door that would lead the long way down to Loki’s cell. She shot them a weird smile. Something caught between petulant and seductive that shouldn’t have been functional as one single expression, but somehow, on her, fit perfectly. then she slipped through the door and she was gone. 

“What was that, Buck?” Steve questioned, as they turned back towards the stairwell. 

Bucky huffs. It sounds a little fond. A little annoyed. “She’s jus’ scared. Was gonna have ‘em over for dinner next week. Introduce ya right, but then Duck-face had ta get himself kidnapped…” he muttered. Then he stopped and took a breath. “She’s family, Stevie.” He added, earnestly. 

Steve sighed. “Okay, buck.” He understood what was really being asked here. He needed to not see her as “Agent Romanoff”, but as Natasha. And, he suspected that expectation had been stressed both ways. They were both Bucky’s family and that took precedent over being Captain America or whatever her code-name was. Did she even have a code-name? most of the SHIELD agents didn’t, but she seemed… different?

Actually, come to think of it, Steve was pretty sure Bucky had one. She’d called him “winter” on the jet… “Hey, Buck,” Steve wondered, only realizing that several minutes had passed with him lost in his thoughts once he spoke. That had been happening a lot lately. Maybe he’d always done it but now it seemed… he didn’t know. “Why did Natasha call you “Winter” on the jet?”

Bucky let out a sharp laugh. “’t’s what the girls from the red room - the place she was rai- the place she comes from. ’t’s what they called me.” he explained, a mix of fondness and anger creeping into his tone. 

They lapsed into another comfortable silence until another thought occurred to Steve. “Nothin’ makes sense,” he said, abruptly. “Ya ever feel like that?” It hadn’t really bothered him as much back at the apartment. He hadn’t even realized how hard Bucky had probably been working at protecting him from…well, all of this, until now.

Bucky paused. He leaned against the wall of the stairwell, closing his eyes and tilting his head back in thought. “I did,” he admitted. “For a long time, I did. At first it was ‘cause I was missin’ half my memories and things were just so confusing. Then I started ta get ‘em back and feel like myself again, but…” Bucky opened his eyes, meeting Steve’s gaze with a fierce resoluteness as he continued, “how could I not when such a huge part of my life was missin’?I didn’t know who I was without you, Stevie - I was nothin’.” 

Steve’s heart seemed too afraid to beat. He felt all the air go out of him at his husbands deceleration. He felt like someone was pulling him apart, brick-by-brick until all that was left were his foundations. All that was left was “Buck…”

Bucky shook his head. “No, Stevie. ’t’s true. I’ve been followin’ your punk ass since we were knee-high. What am I supposed to do when ya aren’t here ta get us into trouble?” He insisted.

Steve took a moment to collect himself. Find his breath again. His words. “When…” he tried, but had to stop to swallow the lump this line of thoughts always lodged in his throat. “When you fell, it felt like part of me went with you. Like I was just…” 

“A shell?” 

Steve nodded. “Yeah. I… then I woke up and everything is different. You’re here, but you’re different too and nothin’ makes a lick of sense!” Steve paused, looking down at their feet. Bucky’s combat boots were all black except for the laces. He hadn’t noticed the little white stars on them until now. It made him smile a little. “I guess I just missed so much - not just with the world, but with you, too. It’s kinda overwhelming…” Steve amended, realizing how harsh his outburst had probably sounded. 

Bucky pushed himself off of the wall and wrapped himself around Steve, like he used to, when nobody was around to see them. Steve couldn’t quite disappear into the folds of Bucky’s arms anymore, but that didn’t make them any less comforting. “I know, babydoll,” Bucky whispered, placing a soft kiss onto the side of Steve’s head. “But ya just woke up. You’ve barely even outside the apartment and now they’re askin’ ya ta fight… it ain’t fair ta you.” Bucky reminded him gently. 

Steve nodded into Bucky’s neck, finding comfort in the dark canopy of hair blocking some of the bright stairwell lights. He clung to him, unwilling to give this tiny sliver of calm up just yet. The impending fight was still impending. They could stay here, just like this, a little longer. Couldn’t they?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Nat would've needed a minute to clear her head if she was gonna play Loki at his own game ya know? also, he seemed like he'd been in the cell a while before she came so I think she'll walk the long way and Steve will still have time to find phase two.


	12. Everything special about you...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything special about you

The next hour went by in a blur. Steve and Bucky had found their way into the lab just in time to see Tony stab Bruce with some tiny, pokey, zap-y, thing. Steve suddenly remembered why they had been wandering around instead of being here. “Are you nuts?” Steve demanded, which lead to a whole conversation (argument) about safety, SHIELD, and the secrets kept by Nick Fury. By the time Steve simply snapped “just find the cube,” and stormed out, Tony had managed to get under his skin. He was too angry at the reckless billionaire to admit it, but if two of the smartest people in the world were also suspicious of Fury, maybe there was something more to it than household boundaries. 

Bucky was caught up in the machines and devices all around them. Entranced by his love of science, so Steve let him be. He went off alone, only to return not five minutes later. He slammed a very HYDRA looking gun down on Bruce’s work bench, immediately cutting in on the conversation. “Phase two is SHIELD uses the cube to make weapons!” He snapped, glaring at Fury, who’d come in sometime during Steve’s absence. 

Bucky stood up abruptly, jumping back from the - unmistakably - unloaded gun. He sort of scurried behind Steve. Something he’d never done before… JESUS FUCK WHAT DID THEY DO TO HIM? 

Steve glanced at Tony “sorry,” he said, reaching back and lacing his fingers with Bucky’s flesh ones. “Computer was moving a little slow for me.” He squeezed Bucky’s hand. A silent check-in. 

Bucky squeezed back and Steve relaxed a little. He was just startled. It was fine. They were fine. 

Fury cast his eye on Steve, apprehensively. “Rogers, we gathered everything related to the Tesseract. This does not mean that we’re-“ he began, but Tony cut him off. 

“I’m sorry, Nick,” Tony turned the screen towards Fury. It showed a plan for some kind of missile. “What were you lying?” 

Steve felt his blood boil over, burning his veins and threatening to to cook him. “I was wrong, Director. The world hasn’t changed a bit.” He spat. 

Bucky, who’d managed to go from the verge of panic, to stone cold assassin in .0 seconds, spoke up from behind Steve. “If I was you, Fury, I would seriously be reconsidering my address right about now.” And Steve had never heard him speak quite that clearly - that was probably the scariest part of the threat. 

The door opened, allowing for Thor and Natasha to slide inside.

Bruce looked up at Natasha accusingly. “Did you know about this?” He demanded, gesturing to the screen and the gun angrily.

Natasha looked at him in well-masked alarm. “You wanna think about removing yourself from this environment, doctor?” She wasn’t asking. 

Bruce let out that same twisted laugh he’d had on the deck the day before, unhinged and humorless. “I was in Calcutta. I was pretty well removed!” He reminded her. His eyes holding the truth in his anger. 

Natasha looked like she might genuinely be afraid. “Loki’s manipulating you,” she tried for reason, but Bruce wasn’t buying it. 

“And you’ve been doing what exactly?” 

Natasha gave him a look, having regained some of her composure. “You didn’t come here because I bat  
my eyelashes at you,” she retorted. 

Bruce looked like he’d just won something. “Yes, and I’m not leaving because suddenly you get a little twitchy. I’d like to know why SHIELD is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction!?” He turned his glare to Fury. Seemed everyone was joining that little party now. 

Fury pointed at Thor accusingly. “Because of him!” He accused.

“Me?” Thor looked as confused as Steve felt. 

Fury sighed and dropped his hand. “Last year earth had a visitor from another planet who had a grudge match that leveled a small town. We learned that not only are we not alone, but we are hopelessly- hilariously, out-gunned!” He explained. How did he make jabs like that sound as normal as talking about the weather? 

“My people want nothing but peace with your planet.” Thor rebuffed, hurriedly.

“But you’re not the only people out there, are you? And, you’re not the only threat. The world’s filling up with people who can’t be matched, they can’t be controlled.” Fury shot back. 

Steve had had enough of Fury’s excuses and blame-reassigning. It was infuriating and it was cowardly! “Like you controlled the cube!” He demanded, reminding him of his fault in this whole mess.

“Your work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki to it, and his allies. It is the signal to all the realms that the earth is ready for A HIGHER FORM OF WAR!” Thor added, terrifyingly. 

Bucky scoffed. “A higher form?! Ya really think anythin’ ‘bout war could be “high”?” His words were that of a man broken down by years, and years of fighting, but his tone was just as fiery as Thor’s. 

“You forced our hand! We had to come up with some- “ Tony interrupting was obnoxious. Tony interrupting Fury was a god-send! 

“Nuclear deterrent!” Tony cut in “’Cause that always calms everything right down!” 

Fury snapped at Tony, “Remind me again how you made your fortune, Stark?” And Steve couldn’t really fault him for that one. 

“I’m sure if he still made weapons, Stark would be neck deep-“ Steve began, but Tony, obnoxiously, cut him off.

“Wait-Wait! Hold on! How is this now about me?” He whined. UGH, even Howard wouldn’t have whined like that.

“I’m sorry, isn’t everything?” Steve bit back. He was SO done with Stark at this point!

“I thought humans were more evolved than this!” Thor yelled. He probably felt left out. 

“Excuse me, did we come to your planet and blow stuff up?” Fury demanded of the wanna-be-god. Thor said something to himself that Steve didn’t catch, and Fury responded with “YOU’RE NOT MY CHAMPION!” Huh? 

“You furious? I’m furious.” Tony announced. 

What was with all these attention whores? 

Natasha laughed “Are you boys really that naive? SHIELD monitors potential threats.” She reminded them all. 

Bruce snorted. “And Captain America is on the threat poll?” He looked over at Bucky, “that make any sense to you sarge?” 

Bucky cocked a brow, but let it go. 

“We all are.” Natasha said flatly. 

“You’re on that list?” Tony snorted, looking back at Steve. “Are you above or below angry bees?” 

“I swear to God, Stark, one more crack…” Steve snapped, so over the assumption that he was somehow angelic or whatever it was they all thought. 

“You’re a threat. VERBAL THREAT! I FEEL THREATENED!” Tony screamed like a petulant child. 

Bucky tensed, eyes focusing in on Stark. 

Steve snarled “show some respect!” He demanded of Tony, figuring he may as well play that card if it was on the table. Never let anyone say that Steve was above manipulation. Or.. let everyone say it. Keep the myth alive.

Tony’s eyes bulged. “RESPECT WHAT?” he demanded, too smug for his own good. 

Bruce was screaming at Thor. “YEAH MAN HANDLE ME NOW, THAT’LL BE GOOD!” But Steve may have missed what that was about while arguing with Tony. 

“You speak of control, yet you court chaos!” Thor observed, disbelief lacing his words. 

“It’s his MO, isn’t it? I mean, what are we, a team? No, no, no. We’re a chemical mixture that makes chaos. We’re- we’re a time bomb!” Bruce rambled, though his conclusion seemed to scare Fury and Steve just added it to his pile of mounting respect for the guy. 

“You need to step away.” Fury told Bruce sternly. 

“Why shouldn’t they guy let off a little steam?” Tony whined again, reminding Steve what had started all this in the first place…

“You know damn well why! Back off!” Steve lectured, crowding into Tony’s space imposingly. 

Tony almost smiled. “Oh, I’m starting to want you to make me,” he egged. It was working too well, Steve knew, but fuck if he wasn’t pissed right now!

“Yeah,” Steve said coldly. “Big man in a suit of armor. Take that off, what are you?” 

Tony did smile this time. Smug and arrogant. “Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist.” He shrugged, as if his resume was somehow a weapon he could wield and it’d win any war he fraught. Actually, he probably did think that…

“I know guys with none of that worth ten of you!” Steve snapped. He meant the commandos, Bucky, Howard, even. Not that it mattered, Stark didn’t care. “I’ve seen the footage. The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You’re not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you.” 

“I think I would just cut the wire.” Tony said like it were obvious. Honestly, Howard raised this guy?

“Always a way out. You know, you may not be a threat, but you better stop pretending to be a hero!” Steve snapped. He knew it sounded weak, but most of his mind at this point was just burning white rage. The only reason he hadn’t already swung at this guy was because they still needed him. 

“A hero? Like you? You’re a laboratory experiment, Rogers. Everything special about you came out of a bottle!” Tony hissed, looking far too proud of himself for finding the words that would cut the deepest. 

“You shut your damn mouth, Stark!” Buck suddenly snapped. He lunged at Tony with his metal arm, and as angry as Steve was at the guy, he knew he couldn’t let that happen. He grabbed his husband, holding him back as best he could. Bucky just kept going like it was nothing. “Just shut that loud fuckin’ mouth of yours and never fuckin’ open it ‘round Steven Grant Rogers again! You hear me, Stark? ‘Cause you don’t know nothin’! Stevie ain’t special cause some crazy fuckin’ doctor chocked him full of steroids! He’s special because he never backs down and he never stops fightin’ for people!” Bucky paused. Caught his breath. Stilled. Then - and Steve could tell by the sound of his words when he spoke - he gave Tony a twisted, maybe even cruel smile. “You wouldn’t know about that though, ‘cause everythin’ special ‘bout you came from a tin can!” It was quiet. Like a vipers hiss, and just as venomous. 

The room had mostly quieted as their half of the argument died and the rest of the room had trained their ears on what Bruce was saying. “…got low,” he was quiet now too, everyone was. “I didn’t see an end so I put a bullet in my mouth and the other guy spit it out. So I moved on, I focused on helping other people. I was good, until you dragged me back into this freak show and put everyone here at risk. You wanna know my secret, Agent Romanoff? You wanna know how I stay calm?” Banner asked a little hysterically. He was holding the scepter. 

Everyone was silent, and nobody moved a muscle. Bucky was still wrapped under Steve’s grip, though Steve could tell by the way he’d sunk into the grip that all the fight had gone out of him. At least, for the moment. “Doctor Banner,” Steve said carefully, “put down the scepter.” Bruce looked down at his hand, realization and horror taking over his face as he realized he was holding it. The computer dinged, announcing the tesseract had been found. Bruce put the scepter down and quickly walked over to the screen. 

“Got it!” Fury said. It should’ve sounded more like a question than it did, Steve thought. 

“Sorry, kids.” Bruce murmured, staring at the readings on the computer. “You don’t get to see my party trick after all.” 

“Located the Tesseract?” Thor asked, hopeful and relieved. 

“Look, all of us-“ Steve started to say, but of course… 

Tony cut in, petulance returning as though it’d never left. Maybe it never would. “I can get there faster!” Fucking Starks. 

Tony turned to leave, but Steve reached out, grabbing his arm and releasing Bucky simultaneously. “You’re not going alone!” It wasn’t an olive branch, but it was something, at least. 

Tony smacked Steve’s hand away. Bucky didn’t even hesitate, he just picked the smaller man up by the caller of his shirt and slammed him into the wall. Then he dropped him. Point made. 

“You gonna stop me?” Tony challenged, flinching away from Bucky but still trying to look tough. 

“Put on the suit, let’s find out!” Steve challenged, maybe partly to remind Bucky he was fine. He could handle this. 

“I’m not afraid to hit an old man,” Tony retorted, then glanced at Bucky “or two.” 

“Put on the suit!” Steve snapped, knowing he still wouldn’t stand a chance against the two of them, but also, not really caring anymore. 

“Oh. My. God.” Bruce echoed from his corner by the computer. 

Boom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! length! WoooHoo!


	13. Flying kites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Big drop

“Put on the suit,” Steve grunted through the dust of debris. 

“Yep.” Tony agreed. 

The animosity seemed to have drained entirely between the two, which was a good thing, because nobody else was around. They’d all been blown to different parts of the helicarrier when the blast hit. Steve pushed aside the part of him freaking out over Bucky’s absence. It would be fine. He was fine… Steve had to believe that. 

He pushed himself up from the tilted floor, then turned to help Tony up as well. As soon as they were both standing, they took off running through the dim, rubble filled hall. “Find engine three. I’ll meet you there,” Tony directed suddenly, peeling away from their path and disappearing into a tech room. Steve didn’t argue.

He knew he was getting close because the rubble in his path was getting larger with every step. He continued on until he found himself standing outside on a broken service landing, inches from open sky. He couldn’t even make out land bellow, they were so high up. Just clouds. “Stark!” Steve shouted into his com, “Stark, I’m here.” He looked out at the endless sky and the broken pieces of engine in search of red, but it wasn’t there. He frowned. defiantly did not lockdown at the drop. Waited.

Then, like a bright red bullet, Tony appeared. “Good.” He told Steve. Then, more of murmur to himself, “lets se what we got.” Steve watched uselessly as Tony examined the broken engine. “I gotta get this super conducting cooling system back online before I can access the rotors, work on dislodging the debris.” tony mumbled, then, to Steve he said, “I need you to get to that engine control panel and tell me which relays are in overload position.”

Steve looked around again, this time in search of something that could be a control panel. Luckily, he spotted it quickly. Unluckily, it was a level higher than he was, and on the other side of the gaping hole of sky. He shook the bad memories threatening to resurface away, backed up, ran, and leaped across the void. He grabbed one of the bent safety bars and swung himself onto the landing with the control panel, which, he rushed to open, only to find he had no idea what he was looking at when he did.

“What’s it look like in there?” Tony asked, sounding slightly winded. 

Steve pressed a finger to the ear with the com in it. “It appears to run on some kind of electricity.” He replied, breathless and baffled. 

“Well,” Tony hummed, “you’re not wrong.” Then, he began to calmly explain what to do. He was surprisingly patient, and shockingly, not completely condescending or insulting. This was his element, Steve realized, and he was brilliant. No arrogant shows or shitty attitude because here, fixing things, Tony was completely comfortable. Even if he was simultaneously having to blast away debris as he spoke. 

Eventually, when Steve was reasonably sure he’d done what Tony had described, he closed the control panel and called, “kay, the relays are intact. What’s our next move?” He glanced back in Tony’s direction, finding him floating over the engine with an assessing tilt of his head. 

“Even if I clear the rotors, this thing won’t re-engage without a jump….” Tony said, slowly. “…I’m gonna have to get in there and push.” 

Steve’s blood ran cold. Sure, they’d established Stark was nuts, but this? “Well, if that thing gets up to speed, you’ll get shredded!” He cautioned, already knowing it’d do no good.

Tony kind of grunt-sighed. “Then stay in the control unit and reverse polarity long enough to disengage maglev and that should-“ he began. 

“Speak English!” Steve snapped, without heat. 

Tony sighed again. “See that red lever?” He prompted, a little less patient than he’d been before. Steve looked behind him, spotting the thing a few feet away. “It’ll slow the rotors down long enough for me to get out. Stand by it, wait for my word.” 

Steve made his way over to the lever. 

It was going fine until a pair of Loki’s goons burst onto the scene, guns blazing. One threw a grenade. Steve jumped into the air as quickly as he could, slapping it away from the circuits and out into the morning sky. He landed back on the carrier and did his best to fight them off while staying close to the lever. He only felt a little bad when he had to toss one of them off the ship entirely. The guy could’ve been under Loki’s control. Maybe he was a good person with a family. Steve just hoped he was a volunteer goon. 

He couldn’t stay like this. He wasn’t hidden enough to be protected… Steve darted out onto the mostly-not-broken catwalk and grabbed the machine gun the hopefully-volunteer goon dropped. His murder frisbee just… wasn’t gonna work here. 

He’d almost won. Was almost good. And then, he backed up too far and slipped over the edge of the catwalk. Frantically, Steve reached for something - anything, to keep him from following hopefully-volunteer-goon down. His hands, miraculously found purchase on a loose wire, and he clung to it like a kite on a string in the wind. So, of course, that’s when Tony called, “Cap, hit the lever!” 

Steve grunted. he tried to shift up the wire but it was near useless in that wind. “I need a minute here!” He called back, before trying a second time. It got him further, but it still was only a snails pace when someones life is on the line. 

“Lever! Now!” Tony screamed. 

Then, like a god-send, Steve heard Bucky grunt, “I got it.” Steve pulled himself the rest of the way to the edge of the catwalk, and was met with a metal hand ready to pull him to safety. He tumbled over the edge, straight into his husbands waiting arms and for a moment, he just breathed. “Punk.” Bucky huffed, into his hair once the immediate fear had passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oooh I wrote this one from scratch bc I skimmed over it in the rough draft and I've just remembered what I like so much about script adapting. It has the same energy as little kids pretending their broccoli are trees and they are dinosaurs. idk how else to describe it, 😂😂😂


	14. Diva

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not marching into Fury's fife.

It was quiet on the bridge. Not the comfortable, companionable kind of quiet that Steve had always preferred, but the oppressive, stormy kind. If rain clouds could form inside the helicarrier, Steve would bet on being drenched. As it was, he was tired and sweaty. He just wanted to take a fucking shower. He and Bucky had gone back to their room, briefly, to clean up. They hadn’t had time to actually wash the grime of the last few hours off, but they’d done what they could. Now, seated across from Tony, at the bridge’s conference table, the adrenaline gone, along with half the “team” and Loki, it was quiet.

Bucky quietly slipped a little cube of color out of… somewhere? It instantly caught both Steve, and Tony’s attention. His fingers began to twist the thing at such a rapid pace that it was almost hard even for Steve’s eyes to keep up. And then, suddenly, it was ordered so each side was one single color. Tony looked away after that, but Steve continued to watch as Bucky repeatedly scrambled and then re-ordered the colors on the cube. It was probably only a minute or two spent like that, but by the time Fury marched up to them, Steve was reasonably sure he understood how it worked.

“These were in Phil Coulson’s jacket.” Fury snapped, tossing a set of bloody Captain America trading cards onto the table. “Guess he never did get you to sign them,” he added, bitterly. “We’re dead in the air up here. Our communications, location of the cube, Banner, Thor. I got nothing for you. Lost my one good eye. Think I had that coming…” he sighed, moving closer to the table. To them. “Yes, we were going to build an arsenal with the Tesseract. I never put all my chips on that number, though, because I was playing something even riskier. There was an idea, Stark and Barnes know this, called the Avengers Initiative. The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people, see if they could become something more. See if they could work together when we needed them too, to fight the battles that we never could. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea. In heroes.” 

Tony suddenly shot up and left the room. 

It was silent for a beat, and then Fury sighed. “Well, it’s an old fashioned notion.” He stared at the cards mournfully. 

Steve looked at Bucky, still twisting the little cube of color and pushed himself up. Bucky followed automatically. Steve suspected he wasn’t gonna give him much space after playing kite for nearly five minutes earlier. He could live with that. 

Steve had a feeling he knew where Tony had gone, so that’s where they went first. Sure enough, standing in the place where Coulson died, they found Tony staring at a wall. “Was he married?” Steve asked, because if he was, someone needed to tell his partner. 

Tony wrapped his arms around himself and turned to face them. “No. There was a uh-“ he blinked. “Cellist, I think.” He explained. 

Steve glanced at Bucky, but he was just leaned against the back wall, watching them. He turned back to Tony. “I’m sorry,” he offered. “He seemed like a good man.” And he meant it. Sure, the guy had creeped him the hell out, but everyone else seemed to genuinely like and rely on him. Even Fury, which was really saying something. Maybe Steve really had just not given him enough of a chance…

Tony dropped his arms to his sides, suddenly defensive when he snapped, “he was an idiot!”

“Why?” Steve snapped back, “for believing?” They were close now, eye-to-eye and both sets were glaring. 

“For taking on Loki alone.” Tony amended, hotly. 

Steve was about to chide Tony that Coulson was doing his job, when Bucky suddenly spoke up. “I coulda saved ‘im” and suddenly the anger was gone. They both turned to stare at him, bewildered. “Saw ‘im comin’ down here. Didn’t even hesitate. Just kept lookin’ for you or Nat... I know ya woulda been fine with out me, too, ya know? But I…” he looked back down at his shoes with their star-y laces. 

“He see you?” Tony demanded, eyes narrowed at Bucky. Bucky nodded. “See, its on him! He was out of his league! He should’ve asked for your help. He should’ve-“

Steve sighed. “Sometimes there isn’t a way out, Tony.” 

Bucky deflated. “I wouldn’t have-“ he began, but Tony just glared his way. 

“Yes you would. You always do. Atonement and all that.”

Steve raised a brow at his husband, but focused on calming Tony down. “Is this the first time you lost a soldier?” He asked, mind replaying what Peggy had said to him after he lost Bucky. 

Tony’s glare returned, full force. “WE ARE NOT SOLDIERS!” He shouted, turning almost as red as his suit. Then, almost as fast as the anger came, it dissipated. “I’m not marching into Fury’s fife.” He explained, almost apologetically. 

Steve softened too. “Neither are we. He’s got the same blood on his hands that Loki does, but right now we gotta put that behind us and get this done.” He stated. Then, more thinking aloud than anything, Steve added, “now Loki needs a power source, if we can put together a list- “ but, of course, Tony cut him off.

“He made it personal.” He declared, half way between a murmur and a revelation. He was staring at the dent in the wall Coulson left behind.

Steve paused briefly to deal Tony his best look. It had disappointed eyebrows and everything. “That’s not the point.” He told him, flatly.

Tony looked up at Steve, fired up now, but not with anger this time. “That is the point. That’s Loki’s point. He hit us all right where we live. Why?” 

“To tear us apart,” Steve answered, feeling it was obvious.

“Yeah, divide and conquer is great but- he knows he has to take us out to win, right? That’s what he wants. He wants to beat us, he wants to be seen doing it. He wants an audience.” Tony realized. 

Steve understood. “Right, caught his act in Stuttgart.” He agreed, with a nod. 

“Yeah. That’s just previews, this is- this is opening night. And Loki, he’s a full-tail diva. He wants flowers, he wants parades, he wants a monument built to the skies with his name plastered….Son of-a-bitch.” Tony cursed. 

Bucky snorted. “‘Bout damn time someone told ya,” he snarked, but it was a light thing. No heat to it at all. The kind of banter that sounded more like two old friends talking than anything. Steve would have to ask about that. Later. When the world wasn’t ending.


	15. Meet duck-face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint.

“It isn’t your fault.” Steve told Bucky as they suited back up. 

Bucky sighed. “Yeah, yeah,” he shrugged on his one-armed black leather jacket and started with the fastens. It had SHIELD branding, but Steve figured it was also drawn from whatever HYDRA had put him in. For one thing, it wasn’t blue, and for another, it looked stupidly hard to get in and out of. “Just like the train wasn’t yours.” 

Steve flinched. The train was absolutely Steve’s fault. He hadn’t been fast enough. He hadn’t- and everything after, too, because of that one, single failure. 

Bucky glared at him. It wasn’t the super murdery glare he’d used on Fury earlier. This was an old look. One he’d had since they were kids and it was usually reserved for circular arguments like this one. Steve had one to match, of course, but Bucky was the only person on the planet more stubborn than him. He usually lost their little staring contests. 

Today though, Bucky looked away. “This conversation ain’t over.” he promised, before marching out of the room. Steve followed after him, awkwardly grabbing his shield and fastening the last catch of his suit as he jogged to catch up. 

Bucky was outside a med room when he did, tapping on the door’s window. Natasha opened it a little cautiously, angling her body slightly so the bathroom door was mostly obstructed. Bucky said something in Russian and she slowly opened the door the rest of the way. To Steve’s surprise, though, it wasn’t Natasha who answered. 

A guy walked out of the bathroom, towel drying his hands, perfectly casual. He eyed Steve, then looked at Bucky. “I can fly us out,” he offered. 

Bucky looked him up and down, then, apparently satisfied, he gave a decisive nod. He turned to Steve and gestured towards the guy, “Steve, this is duck-face. Duck-face, this is Steve.” He declared. 

The guy held his hand out. “It’s Hawkeye, but uh- you can just call me Clint.” He said with a roll of his eyes that was almost fond, but also just a little bit… not that. 

Steve smiled his most polite smile. “Hi.” He said, because Bucky already introduced him. Then he blinked at Clint. “You got a suit?” He asked. Clint nodded. “Then suit up.”

Natasha and Clint lead them through the ship until they weren’t far from where Tony had peeled off from Steve on the way to save the engine earlier. Clint jabbed a code into one of the doors, pushing it open when it beeped. Through it, was undeniably, the ships armory. Only, it was full of weirdly specialized weapons. Clint moved immediately to the section stocked with high-tech archery supplies, while Natasha marched passed him to grab something Steve couldn’t really make out. 

Steve turned towards Bucky. “Buck, why were we suiting up in that room?” He whispered. 

Bucky just sort of shrugged. “I don’t like people lookin’ at my stuff.” Natasha and Clint both glanced over at them at the explanation, but neither said anything.

Steve just sighed fondly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so short, 😂😂😂.


	16. Avengers Assemble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Death-worms

“Stark we’re on your three, heading north east!” Natasha hailed over the comms as Barton flew them in. 

Bucky stared at Steve. “Got somethin’ on my face, jerk?” Steve teased, mostly because he’d let it go on for basically the entire ride over and it was… weird. Like, what the fuck babe? 

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. 

“What? Did you stop for drive through?” Steve heard Tony retort. “Swing up park, I’m gonna lay ‘em out for you!” 

Bucky leaned in as best he could without loosing his footing. “No. I’m just practicing,” he hissed out, quiet enough that only Steve could hear. 

“For?”

The jet swerved under blast from Loki’s scepter, and Bucky fell against Steve. They each had one solid grip on the jet ceiling, and one desperate one on each other. They - the jet - were falling outta the sky! Barton did his absolute best to level them out as they crashed. They still knocked several buildings on the way down. The landing was rough and jarring, but none of them wound up injured (beyond the bruises Steve had gotten under Bucky’s metal armed grip). 

Natasha opened the bay door and half leapt out of her seat. Steve was already running out of the jet, into the chaos of battle. It should’ve been familiar. It wasn’t. These were HIS streets, and it was his life to fight in them - always had been - but this? This was… 

“We’ve gotta get back up there!” Steve called over his shoulder. 

Just then, a loud - was that a whale? 

They all stopped. Looked up… 

The portal was expanding, and from it, a giant fucking flying space worm was headed straight for them. What the fuck? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?!?! “Stark, you seein’ this?” Steve asked over the comms. Tony was still up by the portal, and Thor was still caught in a boxing match with his brother on Tony’s sun porch, but, he was pretty sure there was no missing… that. 

“Seeing. Still working on believing.” Tony admitted. “Where’s Banner? Has he shown up yet?” 

What? 

“Banner?” Steve wondered. Why would Tony expect Bruce to come? He’d made it incredibly clear that he did NOT want to “suit up” with the rest of them. Natasha had made it pretty clear he wasn’t welcome to anyways… and so had Steve, he supposed. Could they really expect Bruce to help? Would he even BE a help? 

“Just keep me posted,” Tony acquiesced, before going back to the fight with the - seriously, what the hell even was that thing? 

Suddenly, Steve was pulled behind a car. “Get down, punk!” Bucky hissed. “Swear to god…” he muttered, rolling his eyes. Steve looked over his husbands shoulder to the next car. Natasha and Clint were crouched together, both in fight-ready positions. Clint met Steve’s gaze, and nodded behind him. 

“We’ve got civilians trapped under -“ someone (probably a cop) was saying nearby. The blue beam of Loki’s scepter cut him off. 

Steve looked back at the others “Loki,” he said solemnly. He looked over the car to the civilians and local law enforcement running for their lives. They were barely making it. “Their fish in a barrel down there,” Steve rasped. He turned back in time to see a handful of Chitauri soldiers approaching. Natasha stood up, pulling a gun from each thigh-holster and proceeded to shoot ambidextrously. Impressive. Steve and Bucky could both handle weapons that way, but that came as from the serum… he supposed though, if Bucky had trained her… yeah. That made sense. He could see it. Bucky’s reflection in the way she fought - though, Natasha was very much her own at the same time. 

Barton darted for a new cover, readying his bow. Natasha slunk back against the car Steve and Bucky were crouched by. “We got this, it’s fine. Go.” She encouraged, seeming to see what Steve was thinking. 

“You think you can hold ‘em off?” Steve checked, looking over at Barton for assent. 

Barton pressed something on one of his arrows, nodding “Captain, it would be my genuine pleasure,” before proceeding to shoot the nearest Chitauri in the skull. Natasha stood again, shooting down two more on either side of Barton. 

Steve didn’t hesitate. He knew that if he did, more people would get hurt that didn’t have too. He also knew Bucky would stop him given the chance, because his next move involved jumping off the bridge they were currently huddled on. He went for it. Landed clumsily on a bus and rolled to his feet. He heard the sound of feet landing squarely on the vehicle behind him. Steve glanced back, worried it was a Chitauri soldier following him. It wasn’t. 

No. This was the single sexiest thing he’d ever fucking seen: Bucky. Hair blowing in the wind, explosions rattling off behind him. Metal arm out in front of him, bracing his landing… WAY too much eyeliner and “QUIT DISTRACTING ME, SARGENT!” 

Bucky smirked. He rose, - oh holy fuck was that a sight - and made his way towards his husband. “You quit jumpin’ off things ya know ya shouldn’t, and I will, Captain.” He retorted, a little mockingly. Bucky slid off the top of the bus and started towards the police officers who were desperately trying to redirect people and whatever was left of traffic. Steve ran after him, jumping from thing to thing mostly just to spite him… 

He landed on top of a police car in the middle of the barricade. “You need men in these buildings, there are people inside and they’re gonna be running right into the line of fire!” He began rattling off instructions. “You take them to the basement. Or to the subway. You keep them off. The. Streets!” He annunciated every direction with a slight tap of his fingers against the roof of the car. “I need a perimeter as far back as thirty-ninth!” He added, pointing.

One of the cops gestured at him in irritation. “Why the hell should I take orders from you?” He demanded, just as something exploded and blew their way. It looked like it might have been a cab at some point. Two Chitauri materialized out of the explosion, landing on either side of Steve. He jumped into battle with the first, taking it out with his shield. The second came at him harder, so he pushed it back, stealing its gun and throwing it aside. The first tried to get back up, but Bucky shot it down from somewhere just out of sight. The other cop turned towards his men and started repeating all of Steve’s instructions. 

Suddenly, everyone was gathering on the lowest possible ground. Natasha and Clint had made their way down, and Bucky had reappeared from the smoke he’d been using as cover. 

Lightning struck. Thor landed. He looked injured, but pushed on. “What’s the story upstairs?” Steve asked him, readjusting his shield. 

Thor stood a little wobbly. “The power surrounding the cube is impenetrable,” he began. 

“Thor’s right, we gotta deal with these guys.” Tony cut in. 

“How do we do this?” Natasha sounded afraid, but determined nonetheless. 

“As a team.” Steve answered. Steve liked having a team. It was something he’d never realized about himself because for the longest time it was just him and Bucky, but then they went to war. 

Thor held his hand out dismissively. “I have unfinished business with Loki,” he declared. Thor wore angst surprisingly well.

“Yeah?” Clint said from the other side of their evolving circle. He was fussing with one of his arrows somewhat methodically. “Get in line.” 

“Save it!” Steve snapped. “Loki’s gonna keep this fight focused on us, and that’s what we need! Without him, these things could run wild!” Steve was forming a plan as he spoke. “We’ve got stark up top, he’s gonna need us to…” 

The sad sound of a motorcycles failing engine rumbling towards them cut through Steve’s thoughts. He turned in time to see Bruce slow the bike to a stop and get off. Everyone went to him. “So…” he gestured around loosely. “This all seems… horrible.”

Natasha nodded at him. “I’ve seen worse.”

“Sorry.” He offered her a real smile, even if it was small. Genuine. 

“No, we could… use a little worse.” She nodded again, shaking a little. 

“Stark,” Steve said into the comms. “We got ‘im” He nodded to Bruce “Banner, just like you said.” 

“Then tell him to suit up. I’m bringing the party to you!” And with that, Iron man appeared, leading the giant wormy thing straight to them. 

“I.. I don’t.. see how that’s a party…” Natasha replied, shaking her head. 

Bruce looked at the thing. He looked at the group. He turned back to the thing, and started towards it. “Doctor Banner,” Steve said “now might be a really good time for you to get angry!” 

Bruce looked over his shoulder, smirking. “That’s my secret Captain, I’m always angry.” And with that he transformed so easily it was almost graceful, completing the transition just in time to punch the thing square in the face and knock it out. The worm flipped over itself, falling towards the group as a whole. 

“Hold on!” Tony urged. Suddenly, a small missile hit the beast and everyone took cover. Bucky and Clint ran behind another cab. Thor… um no Thor, that’s not cover… and Natasha slid in front of Steve, taking cover under his shield. 

The scary death-worm fell. 

The Chitauri screeched all around them. 

The Avengers assembled. Hulk screeched back. Barton unsheathed another arrow. Thor swung his hammer. Natasha reloaded her gun. Bucky grabbed the rifle off his back, and took aim. Steve tightened the straps on his shield. Tony loaded his phasers. 

Then the portal began to flood out more giant fucking death-worms. 

Fuck.


	17. Ow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sacrifice play

“Guys..?” Natasha stared up in horror as hell spilled over into the bright spring New York sky. 

“Call it, Captain.” Tony relinquished, letting Steve do what he did best. Plan. Fight. Lead.

“Alright, listen up,” Steve began. “Until we get that portal, our priority is containment. Clint, I want you on that roof, eyes on everything!” He nodded to a nearby building. “Call out pattens and strays. Tony, you’ve got the perimeter. Anything gets more three blocks out, you got to turn it back, or ya turn it to ash!” 

Clint nodded at Tony. “Wanna give me a lift?”

“Right, better clench up Legolas.” Tony huffed, grabbing Clint and taking off. 

“Thor, you gotta try and bottleneck that portal, slow ‘em down. You got the lightning; light the bastards up!” Steve instructed. Thor swung his hammer and took off. Did he need that to fly? That didn’t really make sense but… oh well. Not important. 

Steve turned to Natasha. “You and me, we stay here on the ground. Keep the fighting here, and Hulk,” Hulk turned. Steve pointed an instructional finger. “Smash.” Hulk smiled and jumped higher than even Thor could’ve. 

“You forget me, punk?” Bucky nudged Steve’s shoulder. He was smirking a little. 

“Pft, like you’d do what I asked, you jerk!” Steve quipped back, tossing his shield at an approaching Chitauri soldier and then catching it again just as if he’d never let it go. 

“Well, what were you thinkin’?” Bucky baited. 

“Guys-“ Natasha warned, shooting off somewhere behind them. 

“Put you up high, same as Barton but the other side.” Steve admitted. 

“You’re right. That’s dumb. I ain’t leavin’ your six.” Bucky relented, with a wink and his million-dollar smile. The one he used on all the Dames back home so nobody ever asked any questions about them. 

Natasha fought so savagely it was a little scary. It was nothing on Bucky though. He was like a beast - tearing apart anything in his path with his metal arm. When that didn’t work, he’d shoot. Nothing was coming anywhere near Steve, and few got through to Natasha. Damn. He was fine. “Winter, Steve, none of this is gonna mean a damn thing if we don’t find a way to close that portal,” Natasha panted after searing through one of the few alien soldiers that had gotten through to her. 

“If you wanna get up there, you’re gonna need a ride,” Steve told her, eying the incoming Chitauri hovercrafts. Bucky was distracted with some foot soldiers to their left… he was gonna be so pissed if they managed this before he realized what they were doing. 

Natasha dropped her stolen spear and backed up to the other side of the bridge. “I’ve got a ride,” she said in regards to the flying chariots headed their way. “I could use a boost though!”

Steve nodded and backed up, positioning his shield in front of him. “You sure about this?” 

“Yeah,” her voice cracked “it’s gonna be fun.” She decided, before running at him. She leapt for his shield, and he used it to push her up. She flew into the air, catching the base of a chariot and flying off. Bucky yelled something over the comms in Russian. Clint responded, sounding equally as worried, but Natasha’s response sounded dismissive.

Something shot their way. Steve pulled Bucky behind his shield just in time. Damn Chitauri. 

Steve and Bucky tossed the shield back and forth effortlessly. It was so well choreographed, so well practiced. Like a dance. Their dance. The right partner. 

At some point, Tony landed between them, blasting the shield while it was in Steve’s hand, and Bucky’s left palm. The result was that of two lasers blazing through another round of chariots. Then he zoomed back off into the sky. 

They went back to their dance. 

“Captain, Sarge, a bad guy, forty-second, past Madison. They cornered a lot of civilians in there,” Clint hailed over the comms. 

“We’re on it!” Steve grunted, catching his shield and hoping off the bridge again. Bucky caught his hand mid-air, mostly just because he could. It was nice, even if it was brief. They burst through the window where the Chitauri had just launched - what Steve assumed was - a grande. Steve went straight for it while Bucky went after the aliens. He couldn’t figure out what to do to turn it off and there was nowhere safe to throw it, so he jumped back into the fray to help Bucky. “Everyone,” he shouted as he leaped over the railing and landed two floors down. “Clear out!” Ultimately, Steve got himself somewhere mostly removed from the civilians just so that when the Chitauri threw the cube-powered grenade at Steve, he was the only one who got hit. At least he had his shield. 

“NO!” He heard Bucky scream as he fell from the window after the blast. Steve face-planted onto the glass roof of a car. It reminded him of the time Bucky pushed him off the high dive in ‘36. It hurt. He pulled himself up and hopped off the car. There was definitely some glass and shrapnel that cut through his uniform… All around him, people were running. Firefighters were directing the civilians as best as they could. Smoke and ash was settling over the scene. Steve almost coughed, but wound up just wincing instead. He heard footsteps approaching. Felt frantic, but gentle hands pat him down; checking for injury. He couldn’t see past the memory of the pool as it gave way to deeper, colder waters. His mind was blue. He felt cold… everything hurt. “Fuck, Stevie…” he heard Bucky mumble, but Steve just couldn’t quite reach him. “Just, hold still…” 

Steve felt something moving where it hurt. Bucky was pulling the broken glass out of him. “…thanks…” Steve mumbled. He still felt far away. Cold. 

“You’re not aloud to leave the apartment ever again.” Bucky grunted. He must’ve finished pulling the glass out - Steve couldn’t tell anymore - because he was pulling Steve against his chest, and clinging to him as if, if he let go, Steve would just die right there on the spot. 

“Stark, you hear me?” Fury’s voice cut through the comms. Steve felt his vision clear and his mind slam back into his body with as much force as he’d slammed into that car. “You have a missile headed straight for the city.” 

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Bucky mumbled into Steve’s hair. 

“How long?” Tony half yelled back. 

“Three minutes, max.” 

“Jarvis, put everything we’ve got into the thrusters.” Tony told his suit. 

Thor landed beside Steve and Bucky, slamming his hammer into a Chitauri soldier. The supper soldiers reluctantly broke apart so they could aid him. He held his own despite the pain for a minute or two, but then, just when Steve was about to toss Bucky the shield, a laser shot him in the ribs. Right where the cuts from the glass had only begun to heal. He went down with a cry of pain. 

Thor used his hammer to block incoming shots until he could launch a cab at the ten or so aliens shooting at them. Bucky used his cover to collect Steve, pulling him up and eyeing the wound. It was probably disgustingly bloody and burnt. Not that there hadn’t been worse ones between them… 

It was hard to breath. Like when he was a kid and he’d pick a fight in some back ally, only to have an asthma attack and a couple of broken ribs. Bucky was looking at him the same way he did then too. Angry and worried and scared as hell. 

“You ready for another bout?” Thor asked a panting Steve. 

Steve winced when he tried to straighten, falling back against Bucky’s open arms. “What,” Steve grunted “you gettin’ sleepy?” Bucky smacked him upside the head with his flesh hand. Steve winced again, trying to shrink away but realizing that hurt too much. He gave up at that point, letting Bucky support his weight. 

“I can close it…” Natasha’s voice came over the comms. Bucky seemed to sag in relief at the sound of her voice. One less reckless idiot to worry about. “Can anybody copy? I can shut the portal down!” She said again, stronger this time. 

“Do it!” Steve shouted into the comm. 

“No! Wait!” Tony cut in. 

“Stark, these things are still coming!” Steve yelled, looking up at the sky full of death. 

“I got a nuke coming in. It’s gonna blow in less than a minute and I know just where to put it.” Tony explained. Well, shit. Steve had forgotten all about that when the damn laser got him. 

“Stark. You know that’s a one way trip.” Steve warned, feeling helpless to save his teammate now. Tony ignored him, giving his suit instructions and letting it try to call “Ms. Potts”. Who was that? The name sounded sort of familiar… maybe he’d read about her in the debriefing packet under Tony’s section or something… They all watched in horror as Tony latched onto the missile and pushed it up through the portal. The sacrifice play. 

Chitauri started dropping all around them. Dead. 

The nuke had gone off. 

They all waited with baited breath for Tony to pull through. He didn’t. The recharge would start falling through the portal now… they had to- “close it.” Steve instructed. Natasha cut the power. The beam dissipated. The portal began to close. 

Steve looked down, mourning Tony, but Bucky nudged him where it wouldn’t hurt and nodded back up. Steve could see the red and gold suit falling through the sky. “Son of a gun.”

“He’s not slowing down!” Thor realized, spinning his hammer and readying for take off. 

Hulk beat him to hit though, catching Tony midair and slowing their fall by skimming down the side of a nearby building. The three of them rushed over, reaching Hulk just as he flung an unconscious Tony to the ground. Thor rolled him to his back and ripped off his cowel. He wasn’t breathing. 

“God damn it stark, wake up!” Bucky breathed. 

Just when everyone had given up all hope, Hulk lunged forward and roared over Tony’s still frame. Tony startled awake. “What the hell?” He grunted. Then he took in everyone’s relieved faces. “What just happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me..?” 

Steve took a second to breath around the pain in his side. “We won,” he told him, squinting up at the sunny non-deadly sky. 

Bucky snorted. “No. You two dumb ass’ nearly got yourselves killed! You’re both grounded! You too Nat, I know you can hear me!” Bucky scolded hotly. 

Tony lay back against the ground. “Let’s just not come in tomorrow…” he grunted. “Let’s just, take a day. You ever tried shawarma? There’s a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don’t know what it is, but I wanna try it.” Steve laughed at that. It hurt, but he didn’t care. 

“We’re not finished yet.” Thor reminded them.

Everybody looked back at the tower. “And then shawarma after?” Tony asked, hopeful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> almost time to move into my own plot...


	18. Shawarma

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sleepy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an ity bity baby chapter, be warned.

Shawarma. Shawarma was good, Steve decided. Heavenly, even. 

The poor family that owned the place had only been in their restaurant still to clean up some of the damages caused by the battle. They weren’t really expecting any customers, let alone six hungry superhero’s. Steve felt kind of bad asking them to make so much food - they cleared out their entire fridge in one go… but Tony offered to pay for all of the repairs they needed and then some, so he didn’t feel TOO bad. 

Mostly, he was just tired. They all were. He could see the way they had to work extra hard just to chew their food, or sip their sodas… but Steve? Steve was falling asleep at the table. He sat to Bucky’s left, because his right side was the one that wasn’t still pretty much an open wound. Bucky had his metal arm wrapped around him as they ate - ready to catch him when he inevitably passed out. 

On Bucky’s right, Natasha was turned towards Clint. Clint had his leg up on Nat’s chair, and his food in his lap. They said nothing to each other, but every few seconds they’d look up from their food and just stare at each other. Bucky watched the exchange with a tired smile. 

“Your all grounded.” Bucky announced, sounding as exhausted as Steve felt. Tony opened his mouth to argue, but Bucky didn’t let him. “No. You are. I’ve met Pepper, and she’s as scary as Peggy Carter!” Bucky reminded him. Tony swallowed thickly. Nodded slowly. He leaned back in his chair in acceptance. 

“Why, Thank you, Sargent Barnes,” a female voice rang through the shop. Steve watched absently as a ginger woman made her way around the table to Tony. Her heals clinking fearlessly through the rubble. She kissed Tony softly, then continued “and he’s right. You are definitely grounded.” 

“… I triedtocall..” Tony slurred, looking dazedly you at Pepper. 

She smiled softly at him, then at the group as a whole. “Most of the tower is actually fine, you’re all welcome to stay the night. You all look exhausted.” She offered. She sounded so far away to Steve’s tired mind. He felt himself nodding off. “I’ve got a car waiting outside,” pepper offered the team. 

“Are the roads clear enough?” Nat wondered. Steve thought he could hear her getting up. 

“Nat, it’s happy.” Pepper said, like that meant something. 

“Yeah,” Natasha agreed “yeah, okay.” 

Steve felt himself being lifted. He was too tired to argue, or fight it. He let sleep take hold and let himself be carried. The metal arm under his legs was all the assurance he needed that he was in safe hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that marks the end of Avengers 1. The plot will now dance with canon instead of mirroring it. just a heads up.


	19. Scavenger hunt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \- T

Steve woke to the familiar warmth of Bucky beside him, though the metal arm draped over his waist in the morning air of a slightly damaged building was a bit less warm. There was nothing wrong with this section of the tower, obviously. But the draft from where damage had been done, they were discovering, was prone too carrying. Steve hadn’t even realized how warm their apartment was until they were somewhere else. He missed it.

Steve pushed the longing for warmth aside to greet the day. They’d made a mess of things and now, they needed to clean up. Or, at least try and help. 

Steve slipped out of bed. Bucky woke the second he moved, always did, but he liked to wake up slow and Steve liked to let him, when he could. So, he showered and dressed in the clothes Pepper had found for him, and went to join the others for breakfast alone. 

Thor was the only other person around when Steve found his way to what was probably a common room. He wasn’t positive. He hadn’t exactly been looking around when they all stumbled in the evening before. But, if he had to guess… “Ah! Steven,” Thor greeted, just a few decibels too loud. He smiled big and broad and warm. “How is your wound?” 

Steve blinked. Oh. Right. He’d been impaled by a car and then shot by a laser. He’d almost forgotten. Steve shrugged. “Good as new.” He promised, albeit, a little distracted by the spread of food on the table. He sat down by Thor, mostly because it seemed rude to sit apart from him at this point, and immediately started devouring all of the bagels he could reach. Thor just laughed companionably and passed him a fe more. He liked Thor. 

Only once they’d each cleared their plates several times over, did either of them notice the little glass jar filled with folded slips of paper, each with a name printed on it. Thor reached for the jar and pulled his slip out, then passed it over to Steve, who did the same. It was the nice, thick, paper that Steve had never been able to afford, and it felt oddly foreign in his hands as he unfolded it. On the inside of the slip, was a note: 

*Garage 1. You’ll know it when you see it. - T* 

Steve puzzled the paper. He glanced over at Thor, who was looking at his own slip equally as baffled. Then, because he was curious and Steve never had been one to back down, he said goodbye to Thor and headed for the garage. It actually took a while to find. There were so many floors and halls and half of them were still under construction. But eventually, he came upon the unmistakable doors to Tony’s private garage. 

He only had to step about a foot in the door before he saw it. His bike. The one he’d driven in the war, polished and shined, and new looking, but there was no mistaking it. He practically ran to it, only to find another slip of paper on the seat. This one was a little bigger, and not folded, but it was the same paper as before. 

*My dad never let me near this thing… head to Shady Acres Care Home. - T*

Again, Steve puzzled at the note. First of all, how did Howard even get his bike? Second, how was he supposed to find a place without the address? And, third, Shady Acres Care Home sounded suspiciously like a retirement home’s name, and while Steve was happy to be of help wherever he was needed, he was immediately suspicious of Tony doing all of this just to make some stupid geezer joke. Still, he pulled on the helmet Tony had left for him and straddled the bike.

“Good morning, Captain Rogers.” A voice greeted as soon as the helmet was on. Steve didn’t scream. He didn’t. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Jarvis. A virtual, artificial intelligence. I am here to assist you on your scavenger hunt.” 

Steve huffed. “Is that what this is?” He muttered, kicking the bike into gear and speeding out of the garage. 

“Yes, Captain Rogers.” The voice - Jarvis, replied, evenly. “Please turn left at the exit.” 

Jarvis lead Steve through the trashed streets of his city, (It was good to be back, even if it had changed more than he could ever have imagined. It still felt the same. Well, minus the alien caucuses and rubble.) until he reached the care home. It had been mostly untouched, but one of the death-worms was taking up its whole front lawn and. Well. Steve was strong. 

He spent a good few hours on pushing the thing away. Enough that the care home had its path back, but even then, he wasn’t able to move the thing much farther. He eventually just thanked the handful of people who had helped him and decided the rest could wait until SHIELD sent in their clean up crews, or, whatever. He wanted to do more but he just… couldn’t. 

Just as he started to head back to his bike, one of the carers ran out of the building and stopped him. “Wait!” She called, and so he did. She had bright pink scrubs on. Steve thought his ma would’ve loved wearing those to work. “Someone left this for you,” she told him, handing over another slip of paper. “And, I also wanted to thank you. Not just for this” she waved a hand at the death-worm he’d spent his morning pushing out of the way for them. “But everything you did yesterday too. My sister was in that building when you took the grenade. She’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

Steve gave her his best imitation of people skills. “I was just doin’ my job, ma’am.” He offered, sort of sheepish. 

“Still. Thank you.” She repeated, earnestly, before heading back inside. Steve waited until she was gone before reading the note she’d handed him. 

*Nat needs a ride. - T* 

He got on the bike and followed Jarvis’ instructions until he reached a busy, broken street corner where Natasha was already waiting for him with a helmet of her own and a little stack of notes as well. She slid on behind him wordlessly and he continued following Jarvis’ directions until she hopped off. She left the helmet with him, he noticed. 

Steve was about to head back to the tower when he spotted another note on the sidewalk. He leaned over to grab it as he passed, then pulled around the corner to park where he wasn’t in the way. 

*Your lunch is ready. - T*

Steve squinted at the paper, again, but tucked it into his pocket with the others and headed off where Jarvis directed. He wound up in a hole-in-the-wall kind of pizza place, being handed a gigantic stack of delicious smelling pizzas, with a note on top of them. 

*Roof* 

So, Steve headed up. He found Clint sitting on the edge, watching the city try and pick itself up again in the wake of yesterday’s madness. “Hey,” he greeted, without glancing over.

Steve sat down beside him. “Hey.” 

They didn’t talk much as they ate, but it was nice to share space with someone who didn’t expect Steve to be a hero all the time, or whatever it was people expected of him. According to Bucky, Clint was family, so Steve appreciated the time for that reason too, even if they came away from the exchange having learned very little about each other. 

At the bottom of the last box of pizza was a ziplock baggie with a note to each of them inside. They each took their perspective papers in silence. Steve’s said:

*Station Twelve. Congratulations, as team Captain, you get to do PR with Pepper! - T* 

Steve sighed. At least Tony had said what he was getting into this time.

Pepper was waiting in the lobby for him. She ambushed him with a set of baby-wipes and a clean shirt before allowing himanywaere near a camera. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t both thankful and a little terrified of Pepper Potts by the end of the whole ordeal. It had taken almost as long as moving the damn death-worm had earlier, only it hadn’t been nearly as sweaty and Steve had enjoyed it far less. 

In the end, pepper steered him across the street to a smoothie bar. She made him sit and drink the unpleasantly cold beverage, but he found he didn’t mind all that much. When she wasn’t juggling the media, Tony, and whatever else was on her plate (sweaty Steve), Pepper was lovely company. Eventually though, she was whisked away by some new aspect of this whole fiasco and Steve found himself staring at the note shed left behind for him. 

*She does that. Head to the Macey’s downtown.*

Steve crossed the street back over to his bike and started to drive. 

The place was wrecked. Like. Probably beyond repair. Steve, suspecting there may be something important or someone in need of help, ventured inside. He was absolutely not expecting to find a little scruffy cat sitting atop a small heap of rubble. How did Tony even…? What? 

Steve, somehow, managed to coax the cat down from the rubble. Once he was holding her, he realized she couldn’t have been older than a few months. He checked her collar as he carried her out, but as it turned out, her owner didn’t need tracking down. A little girl came running over as soon as she saw him, screeching “Muffin!” With absolute glee. Steve smiled as he handed the kitten over carefully. he looked around, relived to find the girls mom heading towards them. Good. She wasn’t lost or alone. And, she had her cat. 

Steve nodded towards the girls mom, and slipped away. 

Tied to the handle bars of his motorcycle, there was a little, old fashioned Bucky Bear, only, this one had a shiny silver arm that looked newer than the bear itself. Tied to it’s paw, was another note.

*Head back to the tower. - T*

Steve smiled at the bear and the note. He tucked the bear into his jacket and the note into his pocket with the others and then he headed back. 

Jarvis told him to park in garage 2, and to take the elevator, so, Steve did that. He watched the numbers tick as Jarvis took him up. Then he looked down at the little Bucky bear in his hands. What had Bucky done today? They’d all had notes. He must have too. Where did they take him?

But his thoughts were cut short by the dinging of the elevator reaching its destination. Steve stepped out onto a loft in an otherwise huge, empty space. There were two entire floors worth of stark tower before him, hollowed out completely except for support beams. The higher of the two, where Steve stood, stopped sharply halfway, dropping off so that the lower floor was even bigger and more open surrounding the curved wall of windows. 

Steve moved, almost involuntarily towards the edge. He wanted to see what was bellow, and the answer, he found, did not disappoint. Bucky stared up at him. He’d gotten a hair cut, something more akin to the one he’d had before the war. He was holding a little pillow with Steve’s shield printed on it and a real, genuine, blindingly bright smile. 

For a minute, they just stared at each other. Then Steve noticed one last slip paper taped to the window. He jumped down to Bucky’s level (which earned him a mild glare), and took his husbands hand. Together, they made their way over to the note, plucking it off the glass and leaning into one another as the words written on it slowly sunk in:

*It’s yours if you want it. - T (& 12% P)*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my gosh! Length! whaaaat???? 
> 
> I had this chapter written more like a summery before (why am I so lazy) but I thought it'd be really sweet if I actually put in the effort here and I could use it to build the team in different ways. so. Ta Da! 
> 
> Also, did y'all catch all my easter eggs?


	20. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky adjusting

Eight years earlier… 

Bucky would never forget the first time he entered a SHIELD facility. At the time, he had no idea what it was, or who had founded it, so the giant logo on the wall meant basically nothing to him. It was the agent standing on the landing pad, a few paces ahead of the others and sporting a simple suit rather than tack-gear, who took one look at him, and nearly fainted. 

The agent had mumbled something into his earpiece, and then he had just stared. He didn’t stop until Clint snapped him out of it. “Coulson,” he said, uneasily. “The Black Widow, and The Winter Soldier…”

The agent blinked. “Welcome home, Sargent Barnes.” he said, staring at Bucky. Bucky had known that was his name. He had pieces of memories, and Natalia had stolen what little information on him that she could before they escaped the red room, but. It was overwhelming to suddenly have to face himself like that. 

As the months passed and Bucky slowly worked through the damage HYDRA had done to him, he sort of stopped thinking of himself as Winter all the time. It was slow, and it was painful, but bit by bit, he was becoming a person again. One who felt things. And that’s where the trouble started for him, really. When the memories started to solidify enough for him to wonder. To *want*. 

He wanted to know what happened to his family. Did his parents live the rest of their lives out well? What about his siblings? He’d had three of them. Were any of them still out there? Did they have families? Did they get to have good lives?

What had happened to Steve? He remembered falling, farther and farther away from Steve. And he didn’t remember anything but HYDRA after that until Natalia. So what had happened to his… he couldn’t quite remember. He knew they’d been in love. But, the details… the details of everyone and everything were just… hard. 

Bucky was honestly too terrified of the answer to start there, so he searched up his siblings instead. They had all had good lives, from what he could gather. Each had families of their own, too. But only one of them was still alive. 

He knew it was messed up to have a favorite. But it was Becca. She was... well, let’s just say Bucky wasn’t exactly surprised she was the one who’d lasted this long. 

It took him another couple of months to work up the nerve to go and see her. He kept getting close and then chickening out. He was terrified of what she’d think of him if she ever found out what he’d become, but more than that, he was afraid of her not remembering him at all. 

So, when he finally did work up the nerve to go, only to be met with a hard-cover book to the face and her aged but still very much familiar screech of “Not today, Satan!” He figured he mighta had it coming. 

Still, he laughed. It was the first time he’d laughed like that since he left for war in 1942. It was nice. 

And it was nice to talk to Becca. She told him about their parents and siblings and about her kids and her grand kids. She talked about her life and he listened. He was just enjoying the way she talked. Always had a way with words, Becca. Like she was throwing fast balls with them. 

But eventually, Bucky had to go. He didn’t really want to, but it was time. He promised her he’d come back again and tried not to hurt at the disbelief in her eyes. He’d said it to her before and sixty-five years had passed since then. He couldn’t exactly blame her. 

Bucky wandered back into base that night, feeling a weird mix of guilt and ease. He carried it with him to Natalia’s door. They’d been together just the two of them for so long and now they were apart more often than not, so he’d been tolerating Clint for the sake of time with her. He was loath to admit that the guy had grown on him enough in the last several months that even in this weird mood, he didn’t mind it when it was Clint who opened the door. 

It was just... sort of impossible not to like someone as simultaneously idiotically dork-ish and capable as Clint. He had already proven he would always have Natalia’s back. And, the weird foreign human inside Bucky, also kind of thought he was funny. He’d never admit that aloud, but. 

Clint stared at him in terror. Bucky liked that too. “Your making a face.” He declared. 

Bucky shrugged. 

Clint stepped aside so he could come in. Natalia was on the couch, watching something mindless with that small smile that said she was comfortable and trusted her company. There was pizza. 

It was comfortable enough, Bucky didn’t even think about it. He just wandered in, grabbed a slice, plopped down beside her, and turned his attention to the TV. 

It wasn’t until after the pizza was completely gone that Bucky had worked up the nerve to ask, “What happened to Steve?” They hadn’t really talked about Steve. It felt weird, talking about Steve. Bucky didn’t usually want to talk about Steve. 

Natalia rose from her spot on the couch, disappeared into her room, and returned with a SSR file. She handed it over and nodded towards the door. “You don’t want to read that here.” She told him, in Russian. 

Bucky took the file across the hall and sat down with it. Alone in his room. 

He cried for three straight days.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a bitch to write omg.


	21. Brain Spaghetti

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just some fluff

The bedroom window was open halfway, allowing the warm air of the early summer night to flow in. There were sounds too, not as loud as the bustle of New York, more like a murmur. Steve thought he could hear the faint chirping of crickets mixed in with the hum of the capitol. The calm of it was a little unsettling. He was used to noise and, well, urgency. But none of that lasted this far into the night in DC. 

Steve knew it was probably unhealthy, the way he and Bucky just didn’t really sleep. They used to. Back when he was always getting sick and Bucky was working himself half to death trying to keep them afloat. They slept whenever there was time. but that was a long time ago, even by Steve’s count. 

Now, most nights were spent in the quiet of the apartment they’d gone back to a week after the battle, reading or talking. Or, in the case of tonight, painting Bucky’s arm. 

It had taken nearly half an hour to scrub the residue of the shield sticker off, and another forty-five minutes to get the primer down casually enough as to not jam any of the plates. Steve had only just started on the outline when Tony called. 

“Are you painting the arm? You’re letting him paint the arm?” Tony greeted, squinting between them through the screen. “Never mind. What do you two popsicles want for the back splash and the tiling in the master bathroom? I got a guy coming in the morning… oh! And Pepper wants to know if there is anything you need blacklisted from the tower?” 

Tony had been calling like this a lot lately. Steve actually thought it was a little funny, considering both he and Pepper were in Malibu most of the time and neither one wereactually overseeing the renovations directly. In fact, the only person around consistently enough for that was Bruce, but he was keeping away from the chaos as best he could. Steve suspected Jarvis was the one really keeping an eye on things. 

“Stainless steel for the back splash. I’ll send ya the link for what we want in the bathroom. Dentist’s chairs.” Bucky rattled off immediately. Steve looked up in bewilderment at the last one, but Bucky just plowed right over him. “I want back up heaters, too. Just in case.” He added, hastily. 

Tony wrote all of that down. “Got it,” he agreed with a decisive nod, just before cutting the line. 

Steve frowned. “Dentist’s chairs? Why would he even have those?” He wondered, switching out his brushes for a slightly finer tip. 

Bucky shrugged his flesh shoulder. “I dunno. It’s Tony. Could have one in a lab and I like the labs so I don’t want any.” He mumbled. “… fuckin’ brain spaghetti…” 

Steve blinked. He’d figured this had something to do with what HYDRA had done to his Bucky, but “brain spaghetti” was not a phrase he ever expected to hear. Sure, lots of things kept happening he never would have expected, and he really should’ve been getting used to it all by now. But… brain spaghetti. 

Bucky picked his phone back up and started typing something on it. Steve still didn’t know what a “link” was, but he figured whatever it was was what Bucky was sending to Tony.

Instead of asking about what links were, or what had happened to Bucky in a dentist’s chair, Steve wondered, “does he know it’s three in the morning here?” 

Bucky huffed out a laugh. “no idea,” he admitted. 

Steve went back to painting the arm and Bucky turned back to his phone. Silence fell between them, but it was light. The kind of companionable quiet that felt as warm as the summer breeze blowing in or the mountain of blankets on the bed they barely ever slept in. Yes, he missed the sounds of the sleepless city, but he didn’t mind this kind of shared quiet so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote something based of my first draft and it was just sitting weird in the story so I took it down and started from scratch. I'm much happier with this chapter. sorry if anyone got confused.


	22. PSA

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve hated this.

Steve hated everything about the PSA’s. He hated that they took forever to make. He hated that he was the only one roped into making them. He hated that he had to do each one with a straight face. And, most of all, Steve hated that Bucky was so entertained. 

He’d made the mistake of letting Bucky sit in on the first few. The school board rep really didn’t appreciate the constant snickering though, so the next day Steve had gone alone. That was worse, in his opinion. 

They were filming some bullshit about patience now. How did they make every single one of these turn him into a hypocrite? Honestly, Steve was a little baffled by the sheer scale of hero worship around him. It didn’t ever really sit right with him, but it was never this bad before the ice. 

And why was it only at him? He supposed Tony had his fair share of it too, actually, but Tony liked it. Steve did not. 

If he really thought about it though, it was beginning to spread. There was merchandise themed after every member of the team now, where it had just been Captain America or Iron Man. Which, begged the question, why was Steve the only one roped into doing this?

“Hi, I’m Captain America,” they all started that way. “Here to talk to you about one of the most valuable traits a soldier or a student can have.” What? Kids aren’t off fighting wars. Who the fuck even wrote this? “Patience. Sometimes patience is the key to victory. Sometimes it leads to very little. Seems like it’s not worth it.” This wasn’t worth it. “And you wonder... why you waited so long for something so disappointing.” This was stupid. Steve took a breath. Then another. He couldn’t do it. “How many more of these?” He asked the school board rep. 

She gave him a tight smile. “Fifteen.” 

Steve closed his eyes. He hated this. Just. So much.

By the time he got back to the apartment that night, Bucky had actually managed to fall asleep. Steve figured that beat his teasing when all Steve wanted to do was scream. So, he followed his husband’s lead and tried for some rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d have done a more in depth thing here, but honestly, I don’t think it’s needed. Steve isn’t Cap. That’s the point. Enjoy.


	23. Bucky's Kitchen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If they thought the kettle was up to something...

Bucky had a thing about *his* kitchen. He always had. Even back when said kitchen was a sad section of wall and they could barely afford food, it was still his kitchen. 

Steve had never been allowed in Bucky’s kitchen. This was because Steve was a disaster waiting to happen and if he thought the kettle was being rude, he’d try to fight it (Steve burned water). Natasha was also never allowed in the kitchen. She had learned many good life skills in the red room, and from Bucky, but none of those had had anything to do with homemaking. If Natasha felt like the kettle was trying to hide something, she’d try to fight it (Natasha also burned water).

Clint was, apparently, allowed in Bucky’s kitchen. Steve didn’t understand this at all. Clint was a disaster waiting to happen anytime he wasn’t about to shoot something. But. In the week since Clint and Natasha had been back in DC, Bucky had marched across the hall and conscripted him to help with dinner every single night. 

Steve couldn’t exactly say he minded. He liked the conversations he had with Natasha while they sat dejectedly in the living room. She was sarcastic and dry and he was too. It was nice. But every now and then, Steve would look back at the kitchen and wonder. 

On the last night before the move, Steve finally got his answer. Sort of.

“Where’s Clint?” He asked, when he came in from the gym and found only Bucky and Nat. 

Bucky was setting the food out already, and Nat was straightening up the tiny mess of blankets from the couch they hadn’t packed. They would probably just leave those here and get more when they got to New York, since they were keeping this apartment as a place to crash when SHIELD needed them. Nat looked over at him with a blank expression. “With Lila.” She said, like Steve was meant to know who that was. 

“Go shower,” Bucky cut in, scrunching his nose up at Steve’s sweatiness. “I ain’t eatin’ with ya all stinky.”

Steve rolled his eyes. He had already been heading for the shower. “Who’s Lila?” He called over his shoulder as he disappeared into the bathroom. 

“Shower!” Bucky called back. 

“Who’s Lila?” Steve asked again, after he’d showered and changed and made his way to the table. They were waiting for him. 

Natasha muttered something in Russian. Bucky just rolled his eyes. “He’s not a spy, Natalia. He doesn’t go around stealing files to get to know people.” He scolded. 

“You do that?” Steve was slightly disturbed. Natasha gave him a look. “Right.” Steve said, dryly. 

Bucky huffed at them both in equal measure. He shoveled a ridiculously large amount of food into his mouth at once. He was generally as un-prissy about how he ate as he was prissy about who went into his kitchen. He just sort of unhinged his jaw and inhaled his food. "Lila's his kid." Bucky revealed, around his stupidly large bite. it was only years of experience that allowed Steve to decipher the words at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I sort of think this ended a little abruptly, but also, I didn't know where else to go with it? in the first draft this was a stucky argument scene, but it didn't fit so like...? 
> 
> also, I just kind of love super spies trying to be normal people and not knowing how.
> 
> \---
> 
> Ummmmm WTF? MCU has Clint's daughter listed as Lila so I changed it. personally I don't care that much but okay.....


	24. Moving day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> buck... that's not a sock...

“Do we take all our stuff, or just things we use every day?” Bucky muttered into a duffle-bag full of machine guns and… lush body lotion???? His brow was furrowed in thought as he tossed a grenade launcher in like it was a sock, then gingerly placed a set of bath bombs in the corner of the bag. 

Steve blinked. He’d just finished loading his few possessions onto the jet. He’d come back to find a complete and utter disaster. And Bucky…

Bucky was buzzing around the bedroom like a chicken with its head cut off. He kept flitting back and forth between the closet, the safe, and the bathroom. In the span of a minute, Steve watched him haphazardly pack half his socks, guns, and lush products into the huge all-weather duffle bag that had taken over the now-stripped bed. Then, all of the sudden, Bucky just stopped in the middle of the madness and turned on Steve.“Do we take all our stuff, or just things we use everyday?” he demanded, eyes crazed, eyeliner smudged, and pants-less. 

Steve stared at his husband. Why did he leave this much packing for moving day? They’d been done packing up the rest of the apartment days ago. He had all that time- you know what? Steve wasn’t going to go there. If he did he’d pick a fight and he wasn’t sure that was the best idea when… well. “… did you just throw a grenade launcher in with a thing of bath bombs?” So okay, he went there. But could you blame him? Bucky just chucked a machine gun in like it was a sock, but neatly tucked the socks into the bag. What the fuck?

Bucky dropped to the floor and pulled a pair of Captain America sweats from the mounting pile of backwards progress and glared at them. “Ruined!” He half screamed at the pair, as if they’d just personally offended him somehow. 

“Buck,” Steve wasn’t sure if he should laugh or scream. This was… this was something else. 

Bucky looked up at him, even nuttier looking this time than the last. “Answer me Steven!” He snapped.

This time, Steve did laugh. Into his hands. Where he was also hiding his face and screaming. It took him a minute or two to calm down enough to drop his hands and face Bucky again. “Just…” he surveyed the mess, “bring whatever you think you’re gonna want, Buck. It’s not that hard.” 

Bucky’s expression hardened. At least that was familiar. “Rude.”

“Uh huh.” Steve agreed, mildly. “Bring it all if you want. I really don’t care. Just leave some toiletries and a change of clothes so if you ever need to crash here you’re prepared.” He advised. 

“Steven, you did not torment me with that fuckin’ mouth torture growin’ up just to abandon it now!” Bucky was referring to all the times Steve had to force him to brush his teeth as a kid. He was such a baby about it too.

Steve rolled his eyes. “I’m not abandoning toothpaste, Buck. I just think we can get more there and you’ll thank me when we gotta crash here after a mission.” Steve replied, fondness creeping into his voice. His smile too, probably. 

Bucky held up two identical pairs of black sweats. He frowned deeply at them. “These are ruined!” He said, a little hysterically. 

“Um… how?” Steve couldn’t find anything wrong with either pair. Or the Captain America ones, for that matter. He just hated those, so he wasn’t gonna say anything about them… Bucky tossed the sweats over his shoulder. He dug through his drawer frantically. Eventually he pulled out a third pair of black sweats, only to frown at them and throw them into the ever-mounting pile of discarded pants. Once he’d tossed several more pairs over his shoulder, Steve finally cut in. “Buck, you just tryna get outta wearin’ pants?” He asked, voice thick with mirth. 

Bucky turned to glare at him again. Steve was struggling not to laugh at the sight of him half dressed and frantic for no apparent reason. Honestly, he was failing. Miserably. “Shut up, punk!” He wailed, before face-planting in his pile of rejected pants. 

Steve decided this would maybe be a good time to go check the living room and kitchen. There wasn’t much left to be packed. They’d already boxed up almost everything. Just some records and a few stupid things Bucky had either bought as jokes, or been given as one from Nat and Clint that they’d decided should stay here so it wouldn’t feel so empty when they needed to stay over. 

Steve sighed, realizing there really was nothing left for him to do here. He went to go see if Natasha and Clint needed any help. It’d be more productive than trying to impede Bucky’s “process”. Besides, he hadn’t really spent any time with them apart from Bucky beyond those short interactions the during the clean-up scavenger hunt. He’d gotten to know them a bit since then, but some unsupervised time might be nice even if they didn’t need any help. 

They were literally across the hall. It was Nat’s apartment, technically. Clint’s was somewhere on the other side of the building. Steve wondered how long it’d been since he’d been in there… it was hard to guess since he couldn’t actually get anyone to tell him when Clint found Nat and Bucky, just that it had been several years.

He knocked on the door in an obnoxious pattern, because that’s how he’d been knocking on doors since he was a kid. If he knocked. Really, he might’ve been the only person he knew who actually did knock, and it still didn’t happen as often as just barging straight in. Knocking was for chumps.

Natasha opened the door. It took Steve a minute to process what he was seeing, but as his brain caught up, he realized that she had a giant fuzzy squid hat on, and a supper baggy Hawkeye tee-shirt. They’d started making Avengers merch like, a week after the battle of New York. Steve thought it was really weird. It felt like an invasion of privacy, in a way. But. Here they were. In the doorway to Natasha and Clint’s SHIELD apartment. On moving day. And Natasha was wearing a gigantic (like, Bucky, Steve, and Thor could probably all fit in it at the same time) Hawkeye shirt. And a squid hat. 

Seriously, what was with the squid hat? 

“His name is Benedict.” Clint called from the back of the room. He was literally so buried in stuff that Steve hadn’t seen him at first. God, Steve should’ve known they’d be even worse than Bucky!

“Um. What?” Was all Steve could think of. He didn’t just mean Benedict the squid hat. He meant the pit that was their apartment. He meant the madness that was his husband’s packing stress. He meant the gigantic Hawkeye shirt. But yes, Steve did mean Benedict the squid hat, too.

“Do you have an issue with Benedict, Steve?” Clint sounded very offended. Natasha looked mildly amused. 

Steve shook his head several times, fast. He probably looked like a kindergartner answering to “now, we aren’t going to do that again, are we?” He put his hands up in surrender, just to drive home his point. “No, uh… I’ve just never seen one of those before…” he amended. It wasn’t completely a lie. 

Clint relaxed back into his pile. Natasha leaned against the door, eyebrow raised in expectation. “Did you need something?” She seemed to be fully aware that he was just trying not to get caught in Bucky’s conniption. 

Steve sagged, rubbing the back of his neck. “No, just, um… do you guys want some help? We’re almost done and-“ 

“He’s fighting with his pants again, isn’t he?” Clint asked, pulling a piece of candy out of the pile and sticking it in his mouth without shame or hesitation. Gross. 

“Yep.” 

Natasha stepped aside so Steve could come in. “We just need to box everything up. Our emergency stuff we already took to Clint’s apartment.” Natasha explained. 

“Yeah, and it doesn’t really matter what box you put stuff in. It won’t stay sorted anyways.” Clint added cheerfully. Steve looked around at the three-foot deep mess they were attempting to pack. It was amazing that they could have this much stuff when they were barely even here! Like, why? How? 

Clint pulled what Steve was pretty sure was one of Bucky’s knives, out of the pit and started using it to clean his nails. 

Dear god.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a gem to write. I enjoyed every second of it. I hope you did too.


	25. Theirs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> he used to dream

Steve gaped at the finished apartment. It was like he didn’t fully process that Tony had given them an entire two floors of the newly-dubbed “Avengers Tower” until he was standing on the loft of the second floor, staring at the finished product. It had everything they could ever want in a home, but more importantly, it was a home. Their home. For them. To share. 

He used to dream about this. It was nothing more than wishful thinking. A thing he knew good and well they would never have. But he’d dream it anyway, on the worst winter nights. When it was too cold and Bucky would desperately try to keep him warm against the threat of pneumonia. He used to tell Bucky they’d have a place that didn’t suck one day. One where they didn’t have to hide, and where he wouldn’t nearly freeze to death every other week. When he was really sick, sometimes he’d get Bucky to play along with the fantasy. Usually though, Bucky’d snap at him. He didn’t like Steve saying things like that. “D’ya ‘member? I used to…” Steve murmured, still distracted by the awe of it all. 

Bucky nodded, gaze still flitting over the masterpiece that was their new apartment. “I always got so mad atcha.” He affirmed, quietly. Steve felt Bucky squeeze his hand. He’d been dreaming all that time. Steve had always known that. He got why Bucky got so mad at him for talking about it. Really, he did. Because it always broke his heart, too. 

But now? Now it was real. Like really actually real. Like they weren’t going to get thrown in jail or killed or something because they had this. Like, they could see where all their next meals were coming from. Like, they were warm and it was summer but when winter did come, it wouldn’t be able to reach them inside these walls.

It was big. Kind of unfathomably so. Steve had never had much space to live in, but he was sure this would be a lot for anyone to take in. 

Most of the space, especially on the bottom floor, was open plan because they really didn’t need all that many rooms. there were two guest rooms, an art studio, and a couple of bathrooms sectioned off on the far side of the apartment, along the back of the tower, beside the elevator shaft. The rest of the downstairs was just one huge space that was expertly zonned off into living, dining, and cooking areas. This was because the slight inward curve of the floor-to-ceiling windows were really the focal point. The view. The view was everything.

The upstairs loft was a little more traditional. It had an entertainment space on the large landing, that was open as well and overlooked the rest of the apartment, but half way into the partial floor, there was a wallop dark glass that cut the entertainment room off from all the room rooms. The entrance to the room rooms beyond the partition was right by the where the staircase and elevator opened up. It lead into a little hallway that was decorated (curtesy of Pepper) in beautiful paintings. 

The first door in the hallway lead to their laundry and storage room. The next two were the slightly larger of the four guest rooms, each with their own ensuite. After that was the master bedroom and attached master bath. It wasn’t stupidly big, but it was spacious, and the bathroom was decadent. Then, finally, at the end of the haul, was the gear vault. It didn’t even look like a door. It just looked like more wall, unless you were actually looking fore something to be hidden in the apartment. Bucky was paranoid. Steve was rolling with it. 

The wood floors were heated. Bucky looked like he might die of happiness as soon as Jarvis turned them on. He kept sliding around in his miss-matched Captain America shield and Black Widow hourglass printed socks, excitedly. He was doing a weird floppy dance thing as he moved, that made Steve laugh. He hadn’t really seen Bucky like this since before the war. He was maybe a little less of a dork about it then. Steve liked the dorky, though. It was cute. 

Steve wanted to keep this moment forever. He wanted to soak it up and never, ever let it end. 

He left Bucky dancing like an idiot for half a second so he could retrieve his sketchbook and pencils from the duffle he’d dropped by the elevator doors upstairs. Bucky was still dancing around when he returned, and Steve was happy to draw him doing it. The mis-matched socks, the smile so bright it could light the sky on the darkest night of the year, the huge new living room, and the stunning view behind him. He thought that maybe, he would paint this one later. After he did their bedroom wall, that is. 

By the time Steve had fine-tuned the sketch enough that it looked almost real, Bucky was starting to unpack the first few boxes. Steve set his sketch book aside to go and help him, but he was cut off by the informative hum of Jarvis’ voice suddenly breaking their quiet, perfect bubble. “Captain Rogers, Sargent Barnes? Dr. Banner wishes to know if you will be joining him and the others on the common floor for dinner.” 

Bucky hummed in thought. “What’s he makin’?” 

“Tika Masala, I believe.” Jarvis answered. It was a good answer. Bruce had made his Tika Masala for the team once already and everyone had loved it. Also, Steve figured any answer was a good one since he knew Bucky really didn’t want to have to rush unpacking the kitchen enough to cook for them and they’d already had take-out for lunch. 

“Yeah,” Steve told Jarvis. “We’ll be up in a minute.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sooooo sweeeeeeeeeeeeet!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
> 
> what should Steve paint the wall? I honestly have no ideas and now Bucky's face all huge is taking up space in my brain rent free. suggestions are welcome!


	26. Questions are a menace, Pepper!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how the fuck to you even answer this bullshit?

“What do you have to say about the damage you caused during the battle of New York?” The reporter, a middle-aged black man with weirdly shaped glasses and a recorder shoved toward the avengers panel, cut in over the initial questions about favorite foods and tower renovations. He looked serious in a way that told Steve no answer would satisfy his already made up mind. 

“That we have done, and will continue to do everything in our power to help repair it.” Steve did his best to answer it anyway. He was really starting to despise Pepper for all the PR he’d had to do since the battle of New York. Except, well, she was pepper and he really couldn’t hate her. 

Oh well. At least he wasn’t alone for this shit show. 

Another reporter cut in. This one was a tall, round woman with long caramel hair who looked at Steve like a bloodhound that just caught the scent. “People are concerned about the lack of supervision regarding your team, considering that most of you are potentially dangerous individuals. What do you have to say to that?” She demanded, as if it had always been her intent to ask them about their collective baddassery and not what they each had for breakfast. Wasn’t this panel supposed to humanize them or something like that? Pepper had promised no stressful questions. Pepper had promised filler-fluff and signings, not… Interrogations.

“Look lady,” Bucky snapped, from his place beside Steve, “we didn’t fuckin’ summon those aliens, but we did stop ‘em. Ya wanna be ungrateful, that’s your problem.” Steve squeezed his husband’s knee under the table. He couldn’t actually voice that sentiment, being the team leader, but he sure as hell agreed with it. He was getting really sick of having to answer this kind of question. He wasn’t supposed to have to today! Why Pepper? 

“Um. Yeah, Frosty’s right. Would it kill you to say thank you?” Tony added, from the far side of the table. He was leaning all the way forward to follow the exchange, and scowling at the reporter. 

Steve just wanted to go home.

A young woman with pale skin and an expressive looking manicure stepped up next. “Captain America,” oh boy… “what are your thoughts on having to fight so soon after waking up?” Steve gritted his teeth. The press had tried to ask him that more times than he could count in the months since the battle, but every time Pepper had managed to field the questions away with a grace Steve would just never have when talking to people. 

“Are ya fuckin’-“ Bucky started, but Steve squeezed his knee again, this time with nails, to shut him up. If he left this go, they’d just ask again another time. He figured it was better to just give an answer now than still be being asked in a year. It was after all, extremely difficult to top headlines like *Captain America, found alive!* and *Aliens take New York!*. 

“Innocent people were in danger, I couldn’t just sit back and watch.” He answered, truthfully. Bucky bristled beside him. Steve really wasn’t sure if it was at him or the reporter, or both.

“And how would you say you’re adjusting so far?” She pressed. “You must really miss the good old days..?” It took Steve’s brain a minute to catch on to what she was really saying. People had said it to him before, in the last six months he’d actually heard it a lot, but usually it was out of a genuine misunderstanding of the past they were thinking of, he’d found. Once or twice, though, he’d encountered people asking out of a genuine misunderstanding of who he was as a person. In both cases, he’d taken to just not answering. Because, well, how the fuck do you even answer something as bullshit as that?

Steve was vaguely aware of how everyone else had gone quiet. He could feel their tense gazes cutting between him, the reporter, and Bucky, who was looking increasingly murderous. He was most interested in the smirk Natasha had on her face where concern or fear dominated every other expression on the panel. She was ready for a show, apparently. 

It was just all so Ludicrous. All of this. The future, the team, Bucky being as scary as he was, and some idiot reporter somehow thinking that this last bizarre and overwhelming, probably even trauma-inducing six months had not genuinely been the best of his life. He swallowed a hysterical laugh.

“Ma’am,” Steve flashed the reporter his best *I am a saint* smile, “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” He told her, forcing benign sweetness into his voice to mask the absolute rage laying underneath. He had things to say about the misconceptions. Really, he did. He just wasn’t ready to say them to anyone who actually needed to be told (except maybe Tony, but that’s different).

She blinked. Clearly unprepared for that response. She opened her mouth like she was going to say more, but she was cut off by an explosion of voices as seemingly every reporter in the room started talking over each other, clambering for attention. 

Clint, Bruce and, Tony tried to regain some semblance of order in the room so they could hopefully just move on, but when that didn’t work, Bucky stepped in. And by that, Steve means that Bucky pulled out his switch blade and started twirling it around menacingly until he had everyone’s (terrified) attention. Then, with an icy-cold smile, he purred into his mic “we’re done here.” 

Absolutely no-one argued with that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My brain feels like noodles.


	27. Media ban

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky gets in trouble...

“What the hell was that, Sargent?!” Fury was not pleased. Apparently. 

Bucky felt his lips peel back in a snarl. He didn’t have time for this shit. Stevie needed him after that fuck-show, but noOoOOooO. Bucky was stuck here, in one of the spare offices on the towers common floor, being chewed out by director dick-head instead of making sure Steve was alright. 

Honestly, who did they think they were? Askin’ questions like that at a signing! Disgusting. 

“That,” Bucky said, very low and very clear, “was me protecting Steve, Director.” 

Fury did not look impressed. He also did not look afraid. Damn him. “No. *That* was you threatening the press. Do you have any idea how difficult you just made my job?” He stared Bucky down, fury written all over his face. “I know you aren’t stupid, Barnes, so I’ll ask again. What. Was. *That*?”

Bucky hissed. Honest to god, hissed. “I already told you.” He seethed. This was getting circular and neither one of them appreciated circular arguments. Fury, at least, had the decency to recognize that if provoked, Bucky would make him look like a toddler playing with toy soldiers, rather than the worlds top spy. He had nothing on Bucky, and he knew it. 

Fury glared. “You’re suspended from active duty until I can get the World Security Council, Pentagon, and press off our backs. And, you are banned from all media until further notice. If I think you are using Agent Romanoff to get around that rule, I will send her on a shadow mission so deep you won’t know if she ever existed at all. Are we understood?” 

Bucky just hissed again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hehehe babi chapter. 
> 
> Fury just proved Steves point and he doesn't even realize it yet. heh.


	28. So you smashed the tv?!?!?!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rage?

Steve flitted through channels on the TV with increasing speed and aggression. Every channel he turned too was covering the events yesterday’s panel, and they were all terrible. Either, they were using his non-response as further fuel for their own agendas (the majority of which, he really, did not agree with), or they were using Bucky’s knife-trick as evidence for why the avengers were dangerous and shouldn’t be allowed. Allowed to what? Exist? First they decide to turn them all into weapons and then they decide they shouldn’t be allowed because they’re dangerous? 

Steve crushed the remote. Then, for good measure, he threw it at the TV. It didn’t break like he wanted it too, just caused an annoying blue streak to take over the middle of the screen and make all the colors go fuzzy and pixel-y. other than that though, everything on screen still seemed to be working fine and the program kept playing. This one, for some unholy reason, was a hybrid of the two arguments and Steve just couldn’t. Steve sunk to the floor and stared blankly at the blue-streaked news feed. 

“I heard a crash, is everything- oh.” It was Bruce’s voice. Steve had forgotten he was on the common floor. Steve couldn’t find it in himself to actually care. 

He looked over at his teammate, maybe a little pleadingly. “It won’t shut up.” He said, intelligently. Off buttons were, despite popular belief, not a novelty to Steve. He was just… out of it. 

“Jarvis,” Bruce called, expectantly. He was walking away from Steve. Steve told himself he was fine with that. 

The TV turned off. 

Bruce returned with two mugs of something and folded himself carefully onto the floor near-ish to Steve. nothing was said, but one of the mugs was handed over and hot tea was sipped in companionable silence. Slowly, Steve felt the anger start to ebb away. “Thanks.” He tried, after he’d calmed down enough.

“Anytime. Just maybe, you know, try not to destroy the tv next time?” 

Steve laughed a weird and not at all happy laugh. “Fair enough.” He agreed. 

They sat in silence a while longer, until Tony came in and ruined it. He stared at Steve curled in on himself on the floor. Then at Bruce. Then at the crushed remote and the dented TV. “Why.” he complained. 

“Captain Rogers was unsatisfied with the current discussion on the news regarding last night’s panel.” Jarvis supplied, helpfully. 

“Yeah, what Jarvis said.” Bruce agreed. 

Tony stared at Steve. “So you smashed my TV?! Captain America just smashed my TV!” He screeched, indignantly. 

“No, Steve smashed your TV.” Oh. Thank god. Bucky. 

Tony whirled around, wide-eyed. He pointed an accusatory finger at Bucky, who was leaning casually against the wall, the picture of 1940’s suave. “Where the fuck did you come from?” He screeched, again. Tony was beginning to sound like an angry goose to Steve, and it was all he could do not to loose another of those weird, hysterical laughs at the thought.

Bucky frowned at Tony like he was the dumbest person alive and not possibly the smartest. “The elevator. I was literally in it with you for like, three floors.” He revealed. He was holding back a smirk, Steve could see it in the way his eyes glittered and the corners of his mouth twitched. 

Tony whirled back around, attention once again on Steve. “What the fuck?” He demanded. Steve wasn’t sure if he meant the TV or Bucky. 

Steve blinked at Tony. “I saw him come in with you.” He offered, unhelpfully. It was a lie. Bucky and Steve were lying. Bucky clearly came in through some creepy assassin mode of transportation that only he would ever know, but Steve would be damned if he didn’t back his husband up on this. Messing with Starks had been one of their favorite pastimes since ’43. Steve saw no reason to stop now. 

Tony huffed. “Okay, one,” he held up his pointer finger to illustrate his point as he spoke, “I don’t believe you because I came down the stairs from my floor - which, since when does Captain America lie? And two,” he put up his middle-finger as well, “What the fuck Cap?” He looked genuinely disturbed. 

Steve wanted to scream into a void for a while. 

“Would’ya stop callin’ ‘im that?” Bucky muttered, lower than Tony could probably hear, but Steve could.

Steve sighed. “I’m sorry I smashed the remote and threw it at the TV, okay Tony?” He offered, tiredly. God he was exhausted. How long had it even been since he slept? The fact that he didn’t actually know, didn’t bode well for the answer. 

Tony opened his mouth to say something that would most likely not help Steve calm down, like, at all, but Bucky cut across the room before he could, and yanked Steve up off the floor and out from under Tony’s incredulous gaze. Sometimes Steve forgot how fast the both of them actually were now. And then one of them would move and the rest of the world would be left blinking after them, and he would remember. 

Bucky didn’t actually stop until they were locked away inside their apartment. “Okay,” he said, frustrated and worried and several other things, too probably. “Why did you smash a TV?” He wasn’t really asking because he cared at all about the TV. Steve was still really getting tired of this topic, though.

“’ts on every channel, Buck.” Steve mumbled. He was staring at Bucky’s feet again. Today they were adorned with a pair of socks so fuzzy Steve was beginning to wonder if they’d been alive at one point, and some beat up slides with the shield printed on them.

“Yeah that helps. Thank you, Steven, as always, you are a master of description.” Bucky drawled, sarcastically. Steve put his head in his hands and screamed. For a really, really long time. 

When he was finished, Steve looked back up at Bucky’s face. It was softer now, just concern and sympathy. “Why do they assume I’m some asshole conservative? A-and you didn’t even threaten anyone! Ya just scared ‘em!” He was just so. Angry. 

Bucky sighed. He ran his metal hand through his hair. He’d let it grow out some since the scavenger hunt, but it was still shorter than it had been. Steve wondered if that was the pattern. To grow it until somebody forced him to cut it and then start the process all over again. “I know, Baby,” Bucky soothed. “But it isn’t gonna-“

THUD.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> place your bets...


	29. A somewhat (very) convoluted story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve be done.

THUD.

“Oh for fucks sake!” Bucky starred up at the ceiling as though it were the heavens and he would find wisdoms there. 

“Captain Rogers, Sargent Barnes, it appears Thor has landed on the roof.” Jarvis supplied, helpfully. 

Bucky closed his eyes but turned his head back toward Steve. He took three long, slow breaths, then he opened his eyes again. “I don’t wanna go up there until we’ve had this conversation.” He sighed. 

Steve actually agreed. 

“Mister stark requests your presence in the common room.” Jarvis declared. 

Steve and Bucky stared at each other for a long time. All the fight had drained out of Bucky and Steve felt like his emotions had been run over by a truck. If anything, he wanted to go to sleep. He probably should go to sleep. It had been way too long since either of them had gone to sleep. 

Steve stood. “Yeah, okay,” he replied, “we’re on our way.” Bucky just glared at Steve, but he followed him back upstairs. 

They were the last to arrive. The rest of the team, plus Pepper and a woman Steve didn’t recognize, were sitting around the table. Most of them looked intrigued, but Thor and the woman looked a little grim. Thor brightened some when he saw them, but not enough to look like himself. “Steven. James. I am glad to see you.” He told them earnestly. Always so earnest, Thor. “This is Jane.” He added, making an encompassing guest ire towards the woman beside him. 

She held a hand out across the table for each of them to take. “Jane Foster.” She explained. 

Steve took her hand. “Steve Rogers.” He forced his *I know how to people* face on and hoped that it’d be enough. 

Bucky nodded to Jane but didn’t shake. She’d offered her right hand and Steve guessed he didn’t want to use his left. He was always so careful with it. Or maybe, afraid? “Bucky.” He offered, mildly. 

“Okay, now that the popsicles are here, will you please tell us why you decided to burn a maze into my roof? Honestly, what is it with you people and wrecking my stuff...” Tony complained. 

Bucky bristled at the nickname. Steve was just relived to know someone had done something worse than him breaking the stupid fucking TV today because he really didn’t have the energy to fight with him over it. Fights with Tony were always personal, he was learning. 

Thor looked down at the table, face resembling that of a kicked puppy. “You see...” he began, and then proceeded to tell them a long, somewhat (very) convoluted tale about how Jane got sick(?), his mother died and his friends and he committed treason to save Jane and broke Loki out of his cell but then he died (sorry?), and then they fought some weird vampire elf and were forgiven but Thor abdicated the throne. Honestly? Steve had no idea what Thor was saying, except that he was grieving and needed a place to crash for a while. 

“Well, like Tony said before you left, you’ve got a place here. We weren’t sure how you wanted it decorated, so it’s pretty basic but feel free to change it to whatever you’d like. Jane, you are more than welcome to stay here as well. I’m sure the boys would like some company in the lab.” Pepper soothed. She was not a soft person, but she used facts like a balm or a weapon in equal measure. 

Thor looked relived. “Thank you, Lady Pepper.” Pepper crooned a little at that. Steve wasn’t sure if it was from the “lady” or the puppy dog eyes, but either way, he couldn’t really blame her. 

Jane looked intrigued. Bruce, Tony, and Bucky looked downright giddy. 

Steve looked over at Nat and Clint who were just taking it all in in two vastly different ways. Namely, Clint looked about as happy as someone who’d just heard the person that mind-controlled them was dead should look, and Nat looked like she was assessing everything. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Steve offered. He was, especially for frigga, but Loki was more than a villain to Thor. He was trying to have sympathy there too because Thor was his friend and Steve really wasn’t great at friends. He kind of wanted to have this, ya know? Not just with Thor, but all of them. 

Maybe getting mad and smashing the TV wasn’t doing him any favors, but… 

Thor looked up at him. “Many thanks, my friend.” He said, not quiet because Thor was probably physically incapable of quiet, but whatever the god of thunder’s equivalent to that would be. Then he turned to look at everyone. “I truly appreciate your understanding and hospitality, but it has been a long and grueling week, so I think the Lady Jane and I will take our leave now.” He rose from his seat with all the commanding presence of what he’d just given up and began heading for the door. Jane hurried after him, stumbling awkwardly over thanks of her own and profuse apologies over the scorch marks on the roof. 

As soon as they were gone, Tony rounded on Steve again. He. Did. Not. Want. To. Do. This. Right. Now. Fuck. “You are so not off the hook just because he burned my helicopter pad!” Tony, apparently, wasn’t going to move on. 

“Off the hook from what?” Clint wondered. It was one of those times where Steve genuinely couldn’t tell which version of Clint he was about to get. Supper capable archer spy, dad vibes/ Bucky’s kitchen buddy, or complete mess of a human, Clint Barton. 

“Smashing the TV.” Tony explained, faux-chill. He turned to Pepper. “Pepper, Cap here, got mad at the news so he smashed the common room TV and then he has the nerve to gaslight me for kicks!” He added, like a six year old tattling to a teacher. Typical. 

“Tony, he didn’t smash the TV,” Bruce cut in, tiredly. Steve suddenly felt really fucking guilty for getting Bruce caught in the middle of this stupid argument. 

“Oh no. I’m sorry. He smashed the remote and chucked that at the TV. My bad. And he lies, apparently.” Tony retorted, dryly. He was staring at Steve though, challenging him in every possible way. 

“Tony, I don’t think-“ Nat started, eyeing Steve and Bucky wearily, but Steve cut her off. 

“It’s fine.” He assured, unassumingly. Bucky, Nat, Clint, and Bruce all stared at him like he was completely full of shit. Which. He was, but was that really the point right now? Too low for anyone but maybe Bucky to hear him, Steve muttered, “I already said I was sorry for breaking the TV…” 

Tony looked like his brain might explode. “Captain America Lies!” He burst out, childishly.

Steve heard Bucky take a very long, very drawn out breath in. 

He took the opportunity to respond to Tony first. “This is the problem with the shit those interviewers were askin’ last night, Tony!” He didn’t care that it probably didn’t make any sense to Tony - the only one here who actually needed to hear it. He just. Needed some sleep. Probably. Then he could deal with… all of this when he woke up. Maybe. Probably not, but. 

Steve stared at Tony. Everybody stared at Steve. Steve stormed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *deep breath* AAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
> 
> My brain is mush. Sunburn mush brain. 
> 
> I promise I'm actually going to go somewhere with this. These are all emotions I think Steve was feeling during avengers and winter soldier but they were also wrapped up in his grief for Bucky. I think he'd still be struggle with Bucky there just. Maybe different?


	30. Bucky Barnes on getting decked by Steve Rogers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tipping point

Bucky caught Steve’s wrist just outside their bedroom door with his metal fingers and refused to let go. After the third try at shaking him off to no avail, Steve finally turned around. It should be noted that a truly angry Steve Rogers has always (yes, even then) had a certain kind of intensity. A something that, if you knew him well enough, would probably give you reason to believe that you should let him go if he was storming off. The thing was, Bucky was making the intentionally stupid decision to ignore that bit of knowledge. 

Steve glared. Not the “I’m secretly a Chihuahua in a bulldog’s body” glare that was all posturing and searching for fights just to feel *something* he could have some control over. No, this was the “I do not care how much I love you, Bucky Barnes, if you don’t let go of me right now, I will deck you,” glare. His free fist clenched and unclenched. One, two, three times. His jaw was working something fierce, too, like he was trying to grind his millers to dust by sheer force of will. “Let. Go.” He warned, low and icey like nothing but a truly furious Steven Grant Rogers could be.

There were only two people alive who knew this secret and one of them had dementia. *What an honor*, Bucky thought, dryly. He tightened his grip just slightly. “No.” 

Steve Decked him. 

It had never once truly hurt. When Steve was small, he could throw a punch just fine but he couldn’t reach Bucky’s face with enough momentum still behind the swing because of the way Bucky would hold him, by both shoulders, firmly in place in an attempt to force eye-contact. Then, after, Bucky had already been given his knock-off version of the serum at Azzono, so they were pretty evenly matched during the war and both healed too quickly for it to matter. Now, if anything, Bucky held the upper hand (heh) again. 

Bucky growled a little. It wasn’t instinctual, nor was it a fear tactic. That wouldn’t work on Steve. More, it was Bucky’s way of telling him he was fine in a way their mutually anger-charged brains could handle. “C’mon, Steve,” Bucky hissed, knowing it wasn’t going to work for the first try. And probably not the second, either. 

Steve shoved him with all his bulk, but still didn’t shake Bucky’s arm. “Leave me alone, Buck!” He hissed. that was a good sign. They’d moved away from the absolute cool fury to the desperate evasion faster than Bucky had anticipated. Steve must’ve been really, really fucking tired. Bucky was glad about that. He’d been trying to get Steve to go to sleep for over a week and it was like pulling teeth. Bucky could understand that. The nightmares were still haunting a decade on, but he remembered how horrible they’d been at first. And Steve. Steve was remembering two thing instead of hundreds with every perfect eidetic detail verses the hazy fog Bucky had had to sift through. Bucky could see how that might be just as haunting, brainwashing aside. 

“No!” Bucky insisted. “I will never, ever do that Stevie, as long as I live.” He had this one supper power, which is to say, he could stay completely earnest and worried over Steve, even when he was absolutely livid. It helped, of course, that Steve wasn’t even a little bit one of the fuckers Bucky was mad at. It was an ever-growing list, but Steve decking him still wasn’t enough to get him on it. 

Steve’s eyes blew wide. He squirmed more than struggled in Bucky’s grip this time. “Buck,” it was still a warning tone, but Bucky knew he’d got him. 

“No.” Bucky said again. “Talk to me ‘bout the TV and what ya said ta Stark.”

Steve looked like all he wanted to do was run and hide. Then he looked for a moment like he might just throw another swing at Bucky or the wall. Then he broke. “Everybody’s got this image in their heads about me and none of them are even close and I- I got no right to take away whatever it is Captain America means to them, Buck, but… UGH! If I thought half the things they think I do I would never have even-“ he stops. Breathes in and holds it for a long, long time. On the exhale, he adds a quiet “… sometimes I miss the Ice, Buck.” 

Bucky pulled Steve in. He held him with his metal arm, gentle now, and cradled Steve’s head with his flesh one. He knew a lot of this was the exhaustion. Not all of it though. “Okay.” Bucky murmured. “We’re okay. You’re okay, babydoll,” he soothed away the last of the anger. Steve was about to pass out any second and Bucky was whole-heartedly planning on joining him for as long as they were able. “Jarvis, can you make sure nobody comes in?” 

“Of course, Sargent Barnes. Your apartment is now in lockdown mode.”

“Thanks.” Bucky figured the rest could wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look, I got there! woaow.
> 
> also, happy thirtieth chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> Please Comment. I love hearing from you all.


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